The Flowers of Spring
by Lizell
Summary: When the days are growing warmer and the first flowers start to bloom, a great party is being held in Imladris. Namiriel has been waiting for years for a chance to see some of her old friends and make new aquintances. But among other elves, she piques the interest of a certain Elven King.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **This idea has been stuck in my head since I saw the Battle of the Five Armies. Which was literally months ago. So I finally decided to put it on the paper.

I will say it right away, I am not a native English speaker and this story is not written in the style that Tolkien wrote in. Simply because I don't have enough knowledge about the English language.

Disclaimer: I don't own Tolkien's characters.

Enjoy!

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She looked at herself in the mirror as her handmaiden set jewels in her hair. Everyone was busy. Through her open door she saw elves running to and from the kitchen, carrying plates and platters of different sizes. She was standing in front of a high wall mirror, there were several others in the room in addition to a huge ornamented wardrobe, dressing tables and flower bouquets near the big windows. Looking out of the window, she saw green everywhere. Trees were zealously growing leaves from their buds and many spring flowers had already started to bloom on the hillside. Imladris was as beautiful as ever.

"Could you please stand still, milady," Sídhel, her handmaiden, said. She nodded and Sídhel continued to adjust her long sea blue dress. It had been newly made for her, and it fit perfectly with her slender figure. She was fair skinned and quite tall, taller than many other women. Her long golden hair fell loosely down her shoulders and many small shimmering crystals were set into it. Her sky blue eyes wandered around the room, following everyone that passed by.

There was going to be a great celebration today. Another _yén _had passed and it was the beginning of the 35th by the elven calendar. This, in short, gave everyone a reason to come together and have a great party. She had been able to participate in such a celebration only once before, two _yéns _ago, but that time she hadn't been able to stay for the whole two days of celebration. The celebrations before that she was either too young or the party was being held somewhere else and Elrond hadn't allowed her to go. But this time it was different. This time the celebration was being held right here, in Imladris, in her home between the Misty Mountains, also known to the Men as Rivendell. She hadn't been so excited for years. The guests would soon be arriving, elves from all over the Middle-Earth, coming together to celebrate the coming of a new _yén _and the spring equinox.

"Namiriel, are you ready?" lord Elrond asked, entering the room. He was wearing his formal garb – a long white coat rimmed with golden laces and a brooch. His brown hair was partly braided and he was wearing a golden circlet.

"Yes, quite," she answered as her handmaiden was giving finishing touches to her attire.

"Then please join us in the lounge, the elves of Lothlórien arrived mere moments ago," Elrond said, nodded to the handmaiden and hurried out of the room.

"You look stunningly beautiful, milady," Sídhel told her and was seemingly pleased with her handiwork.

"Thank you, Sídhel," Namiriel said with a smile and walked into the hallway, heading to the lounge to see who had arrived. About halfway down the corridor she heard someone sing out her name. She looked back and saw Arwen walking towards her. She was gorgeous in her white dress, her dark hair flowing down her shoulders. The two women continued down the hallway, both quite excited, as Arwen hadn't taken part in such a large celebration either. They chatted about the party and about the weather and the coming of the spring, but I cannot cover it all, because it would take too long. Soon they reached the lounge doors, they were wide open and Arwen and Namiriel stepped in. The lounge was high and spacious, with a beautiful view on the valley of the river Loudwater. One side of the lounge was open, forming a balcony, and the warm spring air had filled the room. A few musicians were playing a lovely tune on the far side of the room. The Elves of Lothlórien had arrived and the chamber was full of cheerful chatter. Lady Galadriel with her entourage hadn't unfortunately come, but there were many elves here nonetheless. Arwen and Namiriel looked around for a familiar face, when suddenly a handsome elf approached them.

"Lady Arwen, it's a pleasure to see you here," he said. Arwen politely smiled.

"Thannor, may I introduce you my sister, Namiriel," She responded. Thannor bowed slightly and said: "My lady, it is very nice to meet you." Namiriel bowed her head in response. "If you'd excuse me," Arwen said and walked towards another group of elves, of whom she had recognized someone. Namiriel had never been very good in mingling, therefore she felt relieved when Thannor started the conversation.

"I have never been to Imladris before, it is beautiful here, very unlike the golden woods of Lothlórien, but in a good way. Actually I expected it to be a bit colder at this latitude, but I am pleasantry surprised," he said. Namiriel was a bit surprised by his easy and informal style of speaking, which wasn't very common among the elves (and was at some occasions considered impolite), but she didn't think it appropriate to point it out, so instead she asked: "You were born in Lothlórien?"

"Yes. Actually I've never travelled far away from my home. There is always one more thing to do there and one more place to be. You know how it is, I'm keeping myself busy. I've been training for the army with several others and there is not much free time," he explained.

"Army?" Namiriel enquired.

"Yes. Lady Galadriel has set a powerful veil around Lothlórien so no evil could enter, but she cannot be everywhere and maybe we need to defend ourselves outside of the forest, out of the veil's protection. Although I hope this day never comes, but if it does, we will be ready. I hope to be accepted to the army in the next few years, so I could train with other soldiers instead of the cadets," Thannor explained vigorously. "But enough of me, would you lift the shroud of mystery and tell me a little about yourself, my lady. You have been very quiet."

"There is not much to know about me," Namiriel said. _At least not something a person I just met should know about me, _she thought, but continued: "Both of my parents are dead, my father died in the war of the Last Alliance and my mother when I was born. Lord Elrond took me in and most of my life I have lived in Imladris. He has been like a father to me."

"Oh, I didn't know, I'm sorry," Thannor said, but when he wanted to add something, someone in the room exclaimed: "Look! The elves from Mithlond are coming!"

Mithlond was a town on the shore of the Great Sea. It had been a capitol of the kingdom of Lindon, but after the war of the Last Alliance, there was nothing left but ruins of a once powerful country. Now Mithlond mainly served as a port for the elves who travelled west, to the undying lands of Valinor.

"Excuse me, my lord," Namiriel said to Thannor and hurried to meet the arriving elves. She quickly stepped down the stairs and made it to the lobby at the same time the elves entered. Elrond was already there, greeting the new arrivals, who were paying their respects and presenting several presents they had brought along. Namiriel noticed the head of their party, Círdan the Shipwright, immediately when she arrived.

"Círdan!" Namiriel exclaimed and ran to greet the silver haired elf. Círdan laughed and took her into his embrace, hugging her joyfully.

"Oh, Círdan, it is so good to see you again. I've missed you," Namiriel said, his beard tickling her neck. He released her from his embrace, held on to her shoulders and looked at her for a moment.

"My dear girl, it's been too long since I last saw you, I didn't even recognize you at once." he said. Namiriel gleamed of happiness over the reunion with her old friend.

"Shall we go to the lounge, the elves of Lothlórien have already arrived," Elrond asked when the greetings had been exchanged.

"Certainly. I'll leave some of my party to unload the package," Círdan said and beckoned at some of the elves who quickly started to bustle.

"The quest rooms of the west wing are at your disposal, he will show you," Elrond said, pointing at one of the other elves of Imladris in the room, who nodded.

"Excellent," Círdan answered and Elrond led them down the hallway towards the lounge. Círdan on Elrond's right hand and Namiriel on his left, the other elves from Mitlond following them.

When the company entered the lounge, the chatter there got even louder. Many reunions with old friends took place and everybody was laughing and exchanging stories about their happenings. Namiriel drew closer to the wall, away from the excited elves. She was not very fond of crowds and the lounge that always seemed so spacious, was now a little too tight. And the elves of Greenwood hadn't yet arrived.

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**A/N: **To clarify some things:

Yén is an elven equivalent of a year, except it lasts 144 human years. So the 35th yén starts in the year 866 of the Third Age. I started counting the yéns from the beginning of the First Age, because I found no information about when the elves started counting the years and the First Age seemed like a good place to start. A new yén starts with the spring equinox. The last day of the previous yén and the first day of the following yén are the days of celebration.

Why the name Namiriel? The most boring answer would be "because I liked it" and that is true. But only one half of the truth. I researched the elven naming traditions and wanted her name to mirror her parentage. So, it would have something to do with water -_**nen**_in sindarin language. The other word I wanted to include was_**mir**_\- jewel. Then I modified the name to my liking, at first it became Nemiriel, but then I decided Namiriel had a better sound to it. Basically, in direct translation, her name means water jewel. I personally like to translate it as "the jewel of the sea", but that's just my preference.

Feel free to review the story, I really appreciate your feedback.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Thank you for the reviews/follows/favorites!

I tried to finish this chapter as quickly as possible, because I won't have time to write for at least a week and I didn't want to leave it hanging. So, here it is.

Enjoy!

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„Ah, at last they arrive," Elrond said when he caught a glimpse of the green banner of the Woodland Realm on the horizon. He then hurried into the lobby to greet the newcomers. The atmosphere of the lounge had meanwhile calmed a bit and the elves had formed smaller conversation groups around the room. Several of them had also left for a little walk before the party. The musicians had taken a break and Namiriel found herself again in the company of excessively talkative Thannor, from whom she had heard almost every detail about his life. She herself mainly remained in the role of a polite listener, although she didn't pay much attention. Therefore she was quite startled when Thannor asked: "What do you think?"

"I'm sorry, what..." Namiriel winced.

"What do you think?" Thannor repeated his question.

"Could you specify a bit? My thoughts must have drifted away," Namiriel said, still at loss. She mentally cursed herself for not paying attention. Thannor slightly raised his eyebrows as if he was expecting her to be joking, but Namiriel's face remained completely serious. Seeing her bewilderment, he finally said: "I think the dwarves know how to make the best armor, do you agree?" _Wait, why were they talking about dwarven armor?_ Namiriel thought. Apparently she had paid even less attention than she had intended. Trying to make the best out of an embarrassing situation, she answered: "I must disagree with you. The Ñoldor crafts are also very praised, especially when it comes to weaponry."

"Yes, in that you are correct, but even a Ñoldor sword can break against dwarven armor," he said.

"Then one shouldn't use the sword flatways," Namiriel told just before Elrond entered the room with the elves of Greenwood. Cheerful chatter commenced and the newly arrived elves were quickly involved in the conversation circles. Namiriel used this opportunity to excuse herself from the company of Thannor and catch a few words with Elrond. She moved through the room, that had once again become crowded, and quickly found Elrond speaking to a taller elf. The elf was quite handsome. _No, very handsome_, she thought. His long silvery garb was richly decorated with green embroidery. He had long silver-blonde hair and on his head he wore a crown of spring flowers entwined with green branches.

Elrond noticed Namiriel as she gracefully walked between the elves and when she stood beside him, he said: "Thranduil, may I introduce you my daughter, Namiriel." Thranduil slightly turned his head towards her, nodded politely and responded: "It is a pleasure to meet you,"

"And you, my king," Namiriel bowed her head and curtsied, recognizing him as the king of the Woodland Realm. She turned to Elrond and asked: "Do you know where I could find Círdan. I did not notice when he left."

"I saw him a few moments ago, among other things he also expressed his wish to speak with you," Elrond told her, "He was going to the upper gardens, you can find him there."

"Thank you," Namiriel said, not wishing stay in their company for long. Thranduil seemed a bit too taciturn and stern for a person one would want to have a long conversation with. "My king," she said again and smiled to Elrond, excusing herself from their conversation. She had wished to speak with her stepfather for a bit longer, but it would have been inappropriate for her to interrupt them. Besides, she didn't want to talk with him in front of the king.

She walked down the hallway, trying to avoid running into the hurrying elves. Going up the stairs, she reached a large room with an open balcony. Here it was a lot quieter than downstairs and the thundering of many waterfalls could be well heard. She continued down the hallway, one side of it only defined by pillars and a balustrade, leaving the passage open to the weather. For that same reason, this part of the building was rarely used in winter. Soon she crossed a bridge and found herself in one of the most tranquil places in Imladris – the upper gardens. She followed the trail between the trees and sprouting flowers. In a quiet corner between the vines of ivy, she finally found Círdain, sitting on a bench.

"I wondered if Elrond gave you my message, Tithenil," he said. "Come, sit with me."

Namiriel smiled and took seat next to the man. "To tell you the truth, I was looking for a reason to get away from all the hustle," she responded.

"Did that young elf give you any trouble?" He asked with a smirk. Namiriel laughed and said: "No, he didn't. He was just being talkative. Maybe a bit too talkative, I give you that, but he meant no disrespect." Círdan smiled thoughtfully and uttered: "Oh, Tithenil, you are just like your father – patient and modest. He always preferred the stillness of thought to a noisy company."

"Am I? I didn't know that. Elrond doesn't speak much about him," She said.

"I can see why. You are a lot like him – you have his golden hair and his bearing. But you have your mother's voice," Círdan said thoughtfully. "And her eyes," he added. Namiriel smiled dolefully and remained silent for a moment.

"My dear Tithenil, I did not wish to sadden you," he said, taking her between his arms.

"No, I'm all right. It's just that I've missed you so much," she whispered, hugging him tight.

"You know you are always welcome in Mithlond," he told, but she shook her head. "There is nothing for me in Mithlond except sadness. My home is here, in Imladris," she said. He nodded. In some ways, he could understand her reluctance to return to her hometown, the place where she had spent her childhood until she travelled to Imladris a few years before the forces of the Last Alliance marched to Dagorlad. He gently stroked her hair and said: "If ever should you reconsider, the gates of Mithlond are open for you."

Namiriel looked at him and softly whispered: "Thank you, Círdan, for everything."

"You need not thank me. I gave a promise to your father and it is my duty to keep you safe, my Princess. I intend to fulfill it," he said seriously.

"Thank you nevertheless," Namirirel repeated. They sat there for a while, enjoying each other's company, until they saw en elf hurrying towards them.

"Milord, milady, Lord Elrond has invited everyone to the hall," he said. It seemed like he had run through the whole city to find them.

"Thank you, we'll be there shortly," Círdan answered. The elf nodded to both of them and quickly left.

"Come, Tithenil, tonight is the night of celebration and it is not the time to be sad. Besides, we shouldn't keep them waiting," Círdan said, reaching out his hand for Namiriel. She took it and together they went back over the bridge and into the house.

Many elves were already in the hall when they arrived. The room was high and spacious, although over a hundred quests had gathered there and even more arriving. The walls were covered with carved wooden panels and its large windows overlooked the valley. The light of the setting sun had filled the room and it reflected from the crystal chandelier, making it look like it was ablaze. On the right side of the room was a small stage for the musicians. At the moment they weren't playing, but they would start as soon as the sun sets. Three long dining tables stood in the back of the room in a U-shaped formation, leaving a large portion of the floor open for dancing. In a richly decorated fireplace, the fire had been lit.

Namiriel walked across the parquet floor to the curved end of the table where she noticed Arwen speaking with her brothers – Elladan and Elohir.

"Hullo, sister!" Elladan cheered.

"Elladan, Elohir! Good evening," Namiriel responded and Elohir helped her take seat beside him. The tables had been served. The best tableware had been put to use – golden chalices and cutlery, dishes, platters and bowls. And it all shone in the light of the setting sun and many candles. Food was plentiful, although the elves don't eat much. Roasted rabbit meat and venison with different berries, freshly-baked bread, cheese with herbs, spring salad and so on. For drinking they had jugs full of mead and the elves of Greenwood had brought with them three barrels of the best wine from Dorwinion. The mood was sublime and everybody was quite excited.

Finally, Elrond arrived with his wife. They took the middlemost places at the table, Círdan and Thranduil with their closest companions on Elrond's right hand, his wife and children on his left. On the one end of the table were the Silvan elves from Greenwood and the elves of Lothlórien. On the other end were the elves form Imladris and Mithlond.

When the room had calmed down, Elrond stood up and said: "It gives me great pleasure to welcome you all here. Tonight marks the end of another _yén_. It has become a tradition to celebrate this event each time in a different place. Excactly a _yén_ ago we were all together in Mithlond and today we meet here, in the halls of Imladris. This _yén_ has passed very quickly and almost obliviously. Why? Because we live in a time of peace. Peace that has been hard-earned and won. Peace that once seemed impossible to achieve. And now we can taste its fruits. But still we cannot forget that peace is fragile: it is reliant on the relations between different societies and people. This is why we need to strengthen the ties between us – it helps to keep the peace that holds darkness at bay. And that is also one of the purposes of this celebration, to strengthen the ties between us. Eat, dance, converse and find new friends, because friendship doesn't only create a bond between two people, but it also helps to bind us all. Thank you and have pleasant feast!"

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**A/N: **Tithenil, the name Círdan has given Namiriel, can loosely be translated as "Little One".

I didn't find much information about formal elven feasts on the Internet, so I improvised a little. I hope you don't mind :)

Also, I'm aware that Thranduil only spoke one sentence in this chapter. But don't worry, you'll be seeing more of him.

And of course, I'd love to know what you think of this story!


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Okay, it has been more than a week since I last updated my story. Sorry about that, I was away from home and didn't have any time to write. I will try to update once a week in the future, but I cannot make any promises.

Anyway, here is the next chapter. Enjoy!

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After Elrond had spoken, the feast resumed in its usual rhythm. The elves didn't eat much, although there was plenty of food on the table. Eating just wasn't the main reason for having a feast, conversation was. There was no better place to meet new people than a well-organized party where the music was playing, people were dancing and wine was flowing. And the feast in Imladris could definitely be considered well-organized.

Right on clock, when Elrond's speech ended, the last beams of sunlight reflected from the chandelier and the candles were lit as the gentle darkness of a spring night wrapped the valley in its embrace. Then the musicians began their performance, quietly at first, but then growing louder as the first elves started dancing, swinging lightly in the rhythm of the music. Others, those not so keen on moving just yet, stayed at their tables, talking and drinking. Young women, that hadn't yet found a husband, were discreetly looking around, trying to hide their eagerness to be noticed and asked for a dance. It was an old elven custom for men to ask a woman to dance and for that reason quite a few women hadn't had much luck with finding a partner, especially if they didn't know anyone who could introduce them.

Namiriel was also sitting at the table, but not because nobody had asked her to dance. She had had one dance with her brother and a few more with elves she didn't know very well, but now she was again sitting on a chair, trying to look like she was intently listening to the conversation at the table. In reality, her eyes wandered around the room, trying to grasp everything that was going on. There was Thannor on the far side of the room, drinking wine with some of his friends. She saw Elrond dancing with his wife and Círdan, who was speaking to another elf. From his clothes, Namiriel could gather that the elf was from Lórien, but that was all she knew about him. Arwen was also dancing with someone near the musicians, but Namiriel couldn't exactly see who it was.

Suddenly, she noticed Thannor standing up, telling something to his friends and starting to walk towards her. From his confident gait and determined expression, it was obvious that he was going to ask her to dance. And Namiriel already knew what she was going to answer.

"Lady Namiriel, would you do me the honor and dance with me," Thannor said and bowed. Namiriel sweetly smiled back at him and said: "It would be my pleasure." She took his hand and they walked to the dance floor, just as a new tune was beginning. It was cheerful and light. Thannor pulled her closer to his side and put his hand around her waist. His grip around her was strong and firm and Namiriel was glad to notice that he was a really good dancer. He could feel the rhythm of the music, his movement being precisely in the pace. The dance was fairly fast with many swirls and a bit of skipping, the rhythm being a little polka-like. This didn't leave much chance for a conversation and in a way Namiriel was glad that she didn't have to talk to him. So she could just relax and enjoy his company.

When the dance ended, Thannor exclaimed, panting a little: "_Elo!_ We probably got the fastest dance of the whole night."

"I think you can be sure about that," Namiriel laughed. They began walking back to their places at the table and Thannor asked: "How do you like the party so far?"

Namiriel swirled happily and said: "It has been quite a bit of fun. I have met so many new people and everyone is so beautiful and nice like the flowers in spring!" Then she added: "But unfortunately I haven't had the chance to dance very much."

"Oh? In that case would you have another dance with me?" Thannor asked cheerfully.

"Perhaps that can wait," another voice said from behind him, making both of them turn around startled. Seeing who it was, Thannor quickly bowed and Namiriel curtsied.

"My king, I…" Thannor started, but Thranduil calmly ignored him, slightly bowed to Namiriel and said: "Lady Namiriel, would you dance with me?"

"Gladly," She answered, overcoming her surprise, and took the king's hand. She went with him to the dance floor and left Thannor standing there, quite perplexed.

A new tune had begun. It was significantly slower than the last one and the couples were moving in a circle. Thranduil and Namiriel held their hands and joined the others, moving along the line of dance with a lightly hopping step. The closest equivalent would probably be the Ländler, an Austrian folk dance.

"I am sorry if I startled you back there," Thranduil told her, although he did not look very sorry.

"There is no need for an apology, I just did not expect a king to ask me for a dance," Namiriel answered.

"And why not, if I may ask?" he said with a smirk.

"I…," Namiriel started, but didn't know what to answer. Thranduil laughed and changed his grip, putting his hands on her waist as they danced forward. His hold was gentler than Thannor's, but firm nevertheless. Namiriel felt an ineffable sense of safety in his arms, as if she couldn't fall as long as he was holding her. This made her gain a sense of confidence, but it also frightened her to feel so comfortable between the arms of someone she barely knew, especially since that someone was a king. Like Thannor, Thranduil was also a very good dancer, but his step was lighter and his bearing was statelier.

Namiriel decided to change the subject of their conversation and said: "Imladris is quite beautiful at this time of the year."

"Yes, very beautiful. While I personally prefer rustling forests to the bleak and high mountains, it would be nice to wander around the countryside near Imladris," Thranduil spoke thoughtfully. Namiriel's eyes began to shine and she said: "I am going riding tomorrow, if you wish, you could accompany me, my king."

"I am afraid that is impossible. We are leaving early tomorrow and I cannot spend more time here than necessary," he said wistfully.

"Oh, then I must wish you a nice journey," she regretfully uttered.

"Thank you," he said. They swirled around each other and when Namiriel looked at him, she could see him gently looking at her. There was no trace of his previous sternness. _Why such a sudden change of mood,_Namiriel thought, but did not dare to ask.

When the dance had ended and everyone had clapped, Thranduil said: "You have been blessed with a sense of music, my lady. It was a pleasure to dance with you."

"And you, my king," Namiriel answered, "are a very fine dancer as well."

"I have had a lot of time to practice," he said with a smirk. "I wish you a pleasant evening and I hope to meet you again," Thranduil told her and bowed. Namiriel curtsied, politely lowering her head, and when she looked back up, the king was nowhere to be seen.

She went back to Thannor, who was sitting at the table with a displeased look.

"The king didn't want to dance any more?" He asked, pretending like he didn't care.

"Please, Thannor. You know as well as I do that I couldn't have refused," she said sitting down beside him.

"No, you couldn't. But he also needn't have treated me like a lowly silvan elf."

Namiriel remained silent for a moment. Thannor was right, the king hadn't been very polite with him, but yet she knew that he hadn't meant any disrespect. Thannor was, after all, a commoner, unlike her.

"Come, forget about it. Let's dance," Namiriel told him cheerfully and they went back to the dance floor.

The party went on went on for a long while, even when the musicians got tired, the people still continued celebrating as long as the wine was flowing and the first morning light touched the peaks of the Misty Mountains.

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**A/N: **_"Elo!"_ means something like "wow!" in elvish, for those of you who are wondering.

As always, I appreciate both positive and negative feedback!


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **All right: another week, another chapter. I'm pretty pleased with it actually, though maybe in some places the wording…

Ah, read for yourself, you know better than I do.

And also, enjoy!

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The light of the early morning sun warmed the ground as Namiriel walked to the stables. Thannor was already waiting for her with some of his friends and they were setting their horses ready for the journey.

"Good morning, my lady!" Thannor exclaimed when he noticed her.

"A beautiful morning to you as well," Namiriel answered. She had invited Thannor with his friends and a few other elves along on her riding trip around the countryside near Imladris and now a company of six had gathered at the stables near the courtyard. The weather was warm and clear, it promised to be a nice ride.

Namiriel quickly saddled her horse and gave it a piece of bread for the journey. Then she secured her favorite bow and a quiver with some arrows on her back.

"I don't think you're going to need that," Thannor said laughingly.

"Most likely not, but it has become a habit to take it with me every time I leave the city," she answered. Thannor raised his eyebrows, but didn't say anything more.

"Are you ready?" Namiriel asked, climbing on her horse.

"Of course, my lady" one of the companions, an elf named Arvellas, said, also jumping on his horse.

"Then let us go," Namiriel uttered and they galloped through the courtyard and out of the city.

As they reached the forest, they lowered their pace and let the horses walk along an old moss-covered road. The lower branches of the trees had curved over the road and swiped through their hair as the company passed by. A few white flowers were blooming here and there and all around them, the forest was slowly waking up from its long winter sleep. Namiriel was riding in the front, the others followed her and chatted cheerfully about last night's party. Thannor led his horse beside Namiriel's, slightly separating them from other elves, and said: "Do you ride here often?"

Namiriel smiled and answered: "Yes, actually I do. I like spending time in the woods. The freedom, the silence, the peace one can find here when being alone cannot really be compared to anything else."

"Then you should come to Lothlórien, you would love it there," he said proudly and then added: "You could come visit me."

"Maybe I will," she told looking at him, his face bright and his dark hair a bit wind-ruffled. Thannor laughed and quickened their pace a bit.

"My lady, how well do you know the forests around here?" Arvellas suddenly asked, catching up with them.

"Very well, I dare say. I have explored most of the surrounding woods," Namiriel said, "Why do you ask?"

"I thought that maybe then we could wander off the road a little, let's say, in that direction," he said, pointing east.

"I say, it's a wonderful idea," Thannor added excitedly.

"What is there, exactly?" another elf, a man named Berendir, asked looking in the direction Arvellas had pointed.

"In that direction lays the road that takes you through the High Pass over the Misty Mountains," Namiriel uttered. "However, I do not think it's a good idea to go off the road."

"What harm could there be? Maybe we'll be a little late for lunch," Thannor said.

"My lady, what say you?" Arvellas asked.

Namiriel thought for a moment and then said: "Very well, if that is your wish, then so be it." The elves cheered and led their horses off the road, into the woods. There was little undergrowth and the horses were able to move between the trees easily, although the ground was still moist and soft.

"I say, a horse ride is a lot more fun like this," another companion said, dodging from a tree branch and the others happily agreed.

Namiriel had stayed a bit behind them, looking in the sky and enjoying the soft spring wind blowing through her hair. Suddenly a flock of birds rose from the nearby trees startling her as she could almost feel their agitation. Namiriel looked around trying to find the reason of their turmoil, but the trunks of the trees reduced the field of her view. She spurred her horse and moved closer to the others.

"Thannor, do you feel a bit uneasy?" she quietly asked the elf.

"No, why?" he said laughingly.

"I don't know, I just have a strange feeling about this," she told him and then louder to the others: "We should turn back to the road; otherwise we won't arrive in Imladris before noon."

"Aren't we going to go to the High Pass?" Berendir asked.

"No, maybe another time," Namiriel said. The elves nodded and turned their horses around. They followed another small trail between the trees, heading a bit north towards the river, and continued their gleeful conversation. Soon the silent murmuring of the water could be heard and the elves quickened their pace. But the water wasn't the only thing they heard.

"Orcs!" Namiriel shouted as she saw a band coming towards them from between the trees. They rapidly picked up speed – the company had been noticed. The elves urged their horses to a fast gallop, but the trees hindered them from maneuvering and one of the companions was hit by an orcish arrow. The elf remained hanging attached to the horse's saddle under a weird angle and Namiriel could see that he was dead. The horses frantically tried to run from the orcs, but another bunch came onto them from the side and Namiriel fell from her horse as it shied away from an attacking orc. She quickly got up, grabbed the bow from her back and shot an arrow through the orcs head. She then saw that all the others of her company were also on foot and a few horses had been shot down; the others had escaped from the orcs into the woods. Thannor had been pushed to the ground by another attacker and since he was unarmed, the orc was getting the upper hand. Namiriel carefully aimed and shot it down, saving Thannor from its hold. Climbing out from under the orc, he nodded in thanks. Then grabbed its weapon and flung himself upon another attacker.

Namiriel killed another orc and was aiming for the next one when an attack came at her from behind. The orc hurled at her heavily. She was able to evade the blow, rolling to the side, but that left her in a vulnerable position, lying on the ground, unable to reach her bow. The orc was about to take the lethal blow, but Arvellas jumped between them just in time and struck the orc with his knife. It winced in pain, but didn't fall and as Arvellas was about to pull out his knife and hit it again, the orc swung its sword and sliced the elf's throat. He died instantly. Then the orc turned back to Namiriel, but the incident with Arvellas had left her enough time to grab her bow and she drove an arrow through its head. Getting back up, she saw that only Thannor and Berendir were still fighting side by side, both had grabbed themselves orcish weapons. However, they were hopelessly outnumbered.

Namiriel shot another arrow through an orc's head, but then had to quickly dodge aside as a group of horses scooted past her, breaking through the orcs and slicing off their heads on the go. At first she thought the riders were from Imladris, but as some of them jumped down from their horses to continue the fight on the ground, she saw that the riders were, in fact, from Greenwood. The newcomers attracted the orcs' attention and took the pressure off from Thannor and Berendir, but it might have been too late for the latter, because he was lying on the ground, bleeding rapidly from a wound on his chest.

The elves of Greenwood engaged the orcs in close combat, swinging their silvery swords. Namiriel rejoiced seeing them and shot another orc as it was about to land a blow on one of the soldiers. Surprised by the orc suddenly falling down in front of him, the soldier looked in the direction the arrow had come from. Namiriel instantly recognized him as their eyes met. _Thranduil._ The elf's eyes remained fixed on her for a short moment and then he turned back to the battle, swinging his sword and beheading an unlucky orc that happened to be too close.

Soon the elves of Greenwood had killed all the orcs and silence fell on the battlefield, disturbed only by the distant murmur of the river.

Thranduil looked over the battlefield. There were about two dozen dead orcs lying between the trees and he could see the bodies of two dead elves. Third one he had already seen before: the elves who were leaving Imladris had noticed the horse carrying his body. Thranduil bowed, picked up a piece of cloth and cleaned his sword from black orcish blood. He then directed some of the elves to gather the dead bodies into a pile for burning while others took care of the wounded.

Namiriel had walked a little away from the others. Thannor and Berendir had been surrounded by some elves tending to their wounds. They had been able to stop Berendir's bleeding and his whole chest was covered in bandages. Another elf was securing Thannor's hand with a cloth around his neck. Namiriel felt helpless watching them act and knowing that there was nothing she could do. She collapsed against a tree and hid her face between her knees as she felt the eyes getting wet and tears dripping down her cheeks.

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**A/N: **So, my first action scene. How did you like it? I hope it wasn't too confusing.

For the record, I won't make it a habit to kill people. It's just this chapter… and maybe sometime later on, though I doubt it.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **I would love to update more often, but I'm already having hard time keeping up with the once-a-week updating after the school year ends I will have more time, but right now I really can't do better, sorry.

Anyhow here's the new chapter. Enjoy!

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Namiriel raised her head to someone saying her name. By the pitch of his voice she could tell it was Thannor.

"_A_, Namiriel, _ci vaer?_" he asked, looking concerned.

"Yes, I am fine," she answered and stood up, hiding her face behind her hair to hide the tears.

"You don't look fine," he said, walked closer and gently wiped a tear off her cheek with his thumb. "Don't cry – it wasn't your fault. There was no way you could have known."

"But still their lives remain mine to bear," she answered. He looked at her for a moment, trying to think of something compassionate to say, but since pity seemed to be the last thing she needed, he gave up and said: "Come, the king wants to see you." Namiriel nodded and followed him.

They walked to a small glade, where the bodies of the dead orcs had been gathered and set on fire, black smoke rising into the sky. Thranduil was already waiting for them at the edge of the glade, in his right hand he held Namiriel's bow.

"Lady Namiriel. I had hoped to meet you again, but not so soon," Thranduil said, "nor under circumstances like these."

"Fate has a dark sense of humor, my king," she answered, smiling bitterly, "How were you able to find us?"

"We were on our way back to Greenwood. Near the High Pass a member of my company noticed your... friend, pierced by an orcish arrow. I gathered some of my soldiers and we rode out to investigate."

"Thank you for the help" she said. Thranduil nodded and continued: "Next time when you decide to undertake such a trip, be sure to take some weapons with you. The woods near the High Pass are not the safest place for wandering. Which brings us to this." He examined the bow in his hands. "Where did you get it?"

"It was a gift," she answered shorty.

"A gift?" The king asked, raising his eyebrow, "I haven't seen a noldorin bow since the days of the Last Alliance." He handed it to one of his companions and told Namiriel: "We will escort you back to Imladris."

Namiriel wanted to argue, but Thranduil turned his back at her and walked to the elves that were looking after Berendir. He said to one of them: "Send word to the others to continue on their way to Greenwood and to not wait for us. We will return to Imladris and arrive later in the evening." The elf nodded and quickly left.

Then the king turned to another one of his companions: "How is the young elf?"

"The bleeding has stopped, but right now there is nothing more we can do. He must be taken back to the city," the elf responded.

"Can he be transported on a horse?" the king asked, although it was more like an order than a question. The elf remained doubtful for a moment, but then reluctantly said: "I could secure him in a fixed position; however, he cannot stand too much jolting."

"Then we go slowly," Thranduil stated and then said louder, so everyone could hear: "Set the horses ready for departure to Imladris."

Thranduil had returned to his horse, when he noticed Namiriel and her broken-armed friend approaching him. As they got closer, he turned turned towards them and said to Namiriel: "Your friend will have to ride with one of my companions." Then he looked at Thannor. "I hope that is not too much trouble."

"Not at all, my king," Thannor said with a smile – a fake smile? – and went to one of the king's soldiers, still keeping an eye on Namiriel.

"And I, my king?" Namiriel asked when Thannor had left.

"You'll ride with me," Thranduil said simply and extended his hand to help her mount the horse. Namiriel looked at him for a moment with surprise, but then straightened her back, put her hand on the horse's saddle and pulled herself up with ease, ignoring the king's extended hand. From the corner of her eye, she could see Thranduil smirking, but it was quickly replaced with his usual calm look and later she couldn't help wondering if he really had smirked or was it just her imagination.

After saying a few words to his companions, Thranduil grabbed the reins and climbed on the horse behind her. Again that overwhelming sense of safety and serenity filled Namiriel as he put his arms around her, like at the party last night. And it frightened her. She rested her hands on the saddle and slowly breathed in and out, trying to calm herself, although she was sure he could hear her heart beating.

The horses started slowly trotting and Namiriel could catch several odd looks at her from the other elves. Clearly it wasn't very common for someone to ride with the king and nobody was sure how to regard it. Well, except for Thranduil, he didn't seem to notice any of the looks, or if he did, he didn't mind. Soon his companions also followed his example and calmed about this, a conversation between them got louder and more cheerful.

Seeing that Namiriel wouldn't say anything, Thranduil decided to break the silence between them and said: "I don not think I mentioned before that you are a very fine bowman."

"Thank you, my king," Namiriel answered, "My father taught me when I was little."

"Your father, lord Elrond?" Thranduil asked.

"No, lord Elrond is not my real father, my king. He is more like an uncle at most," she said.

Thranduil shook his head and stated: "Please, you don't have to say "my king" in every sentence."

Namiriel looked at him. "Then what shall I call you?"

The king remained thoughtful for a moment and then said: "You can call me Thranduil."

He said that so unreservedly that Namiriel remained speechless. To call him by his name… she had only heard Elrond do that, but Elrond was the lord of Imladris. She was nobody. Or was she? How much did the king really know about her? Trying to hide her emotions, Namiriel said: "Very well… Thranduil." The name slipped over her lips so easily, as if she had practiced saying it a thousand times.

Thranduil gently smiled and said: "So, Elrond is not your father, although he introduced you as his daughter?"

"If he introduced me as his stepdaughter it would inevitably raise several questions," Namiriel stated.

"Questions like who is your real father?"

Namiriel nodded.

"Will you tell me?"

"That depends," Namiriel said earnestly.

"On what, if I may ask?" Thranduil asked, unable to hide his interest.

"On how much you already know about me." Namiriel said simply.

"Oh? You wish to know what I've heard about you."

"Yes, please do tell me," she said with a playful smile.

"Very well," he said. "The ways you speak and walk… you are definitely not a commoner. Also, I do not believe you were born in Imladris. You said you received your bow as a gift. A gift from a friend or maybe your parents? But you are somehow closely connected to the Ñoldor. From that I presume you were born in Lindon or lived there some time in your childhood. Am I correct so far?"

"You amaze me, please continue."

He smirked. "You do not mind silence and you are not very talkative in crowds. Is it just polite modesty or are you trying to hide something? Or are you trying to hide from something, that has been, pardon me if I say, "haunting" you for a long time." He said thoughtfully and continued, "And that young man, Thannor, he seems to be very fond of you, but you do not seem to care as much about him. I have to say I am unable to make sense of your relationship."

"Does it really look like that? We met just yesterday," Namiriel said and looked down, trying not to blush.

"Oh, then he is just enamored. I cannot really blame him – you are very beautiful," Thranduil calmly stated. Well, now he had managed to make her blush.

After a moment of silence Thranduil said: "You still haven't told me, who your father is."

"No, I haven't," she stated.

"Will you?"

"Maybe."

"Are you playing with me?"

Namiriel remained silent and smiled mysteriously.

"Well, at least you are amused," Thranduil said, smiling as well.

Namiriel looked at him over her shoulder and asked: "Why are you so interested in my parentage?"

"Because I can't seem to figure you out. There is so much you hide and so little you say. I wish to know more about you," he said.

"And you think the answer lies in knowing my parents?"

"Yes, perhaps it does," Thranduil said thoughtfully.

"Very well," Namiriel uttered, "I will tell you, but I cannot guarantee you will like what you hear."

"Please, go ahead," Thranduil said.

"I was indeed born in Lindon, forty years before the end of the second age to be precise," Namiriel began, "My mother was a Ñoldorin elf, but I never got the chance to know her, as she died on the same day that I was born. My father was often busy and so I spent a lot of time with my dearest friend Círdan the Shipwright. One of the few places where I could see my father was the training grounds and there he taught me how to wield a sword and use the bow that had been my mother's. When my father had to go to war, he left me in Imladris, where I waited for his return. But he never came back and Elrond raised me as if I was his own daughter. Later I wished to go back to Lindon, but it would have been too dangerous – there are those that would have me killed the moment they found out who I was. You were right, I am no commoner," she took a deep breath, "I am the daughter of Gil-galad, High King of the Ñoldor and a member to the house of Finarfin."

For the first time in hundreds of years, Thranduil didn't know what to answer. Namiriel was the princess of Lindon. Somehow it all seemed to make sense now. Why Elrond had kept her hidden. Why he had introduced her as his daughter and even why she had a noldorin bow, though that seemed to be the thing of the least importance at the moment. He had never thought that she would be the daughter of Gil-galad. Anyone, but not Gil-galad. The Gil-galad who led the Last Alliance of Elves and Men into battle against Sauron and under whose command two thirds of the armies of Greenwood, including Thranduil's own father, Oropher, perished.

And now, eight hundred years later, the son of Oropher and the daughter of Gil-galad are riding through the woods of Imladris. _Fate really has a dark sense of humor_, Thranduil thought.

"I told you, you wouldn't like it," Namiriel said after he had been quiet for several minutes.

"I must admit, it is a lot to take in," Thranduil said, "I wasn't aware that Gil-galad had any children."

"That was the main reason why Elrond hid me. As long as nobody knows I exist, I'm safe in Imladris. I can understand if you do not believe me. I don't think I would either."

"No, I believe you. I can see that you are telling the truth. Also, you look a lot like your father."

"You knew my father?"

"Yes, we met briefly during the war. He and my father didn't always see eye to eye," Thranduil said.

Namiriel nodded. "We're nearing Imladris. I would be grateful if you wouldn't tell anyone, what I just told you."

"Of course," Thranduil answered, "but why did you tell me?"

"Because you have a right to know," Namiriel stated simply as they entered the courtyard of the city. Elrond was already there with a few other eves, waiting for them.

"My child, I am so pleased to see that you are well," he exclaimed as he saw Namiriel. Thranduil dismounted the horse and extended his hand to help Namiriel. This time she accepted his hand and also climbed down. As soon as her feet touched the ground she went to her stepfather and hugged him tightly.

"I am so glad to see you," she said. Elrond smiled and gently stroke her hair. Namiriel gently let go of him as some of the elves went to help down Berendir and Thannor and take them to a healing room.

"When we saw your horses return without their riders we were ready to send out rescue parties, but then a Greenwood elf came here and said that you were all right. What happened to you? And where are the others?" Elrond asked.

"We were attacked by a band of orcs," Namiriel said silently, "The others are… dead."

"Orcs so close to Imladris? That is troubling news," Elrond told. "Thank you, Thranduil, for bringing them back."

"It was the least I could do," Thranduil answered, "But now we must leave for Greenwood. Namiriel can tell you all you need to know." He climbed back on his horse.

"I wish you a safe journey," Namiriel said with a light smile. Thranduil nodded and the elves of Greenwood started their trip back home.

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_Ci vaer? _– Do you feel well?

**A/N: **So, she is the daughter of Gil-galad. Why? Because there is nothing in the canon saying that it cannot be so. There is nothing said about Gil-galad's marital status. We know that he was the last High King, (don't worry, I won't change that) but if he had any children or a wife, is unknown. We also know that he had close ties with Elrond, he died in the War of the Last Alliance and he spent some time in Imladris before the end of the Second Age. Quite fits the story, don't you think?


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **All right. This one is a bit shorter than the last one, but mainly because there isn't so much dialogue.

Again, thank you so much for the reviews/follows/favourites. I really appreciate it.

Enjoy!

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Elrond sat behind his desk and looked seriously at Namiriel. The warmth of the afternoon sun flooded the room through open windows and the river Loudwater murmured in the distance. The room was fairly small, with several bookshelves near the wall, a large desk in the middle of the room and two small tables in the corners. One of them held a pile of books and the other one a vase filled with fresh flowers. Elrond sat with his back towards the window and Namiriel on the opposite side of the desk. The door had been closed – they were alone.

Namiriel had finished telling him about what had happened: how they rode off the road into the woods, were attacked by orcs and how the wood-elves had helped them. Unfortunately it had not ended well. Not all of her companions had returned to Imladris and for that she couldn't blame anyone but herself. Elrond had silently listened to her and after she had finished, he remained still and thoughtful.

"I am willing to accept any kind of punishment that falls upon me," Namiriel said. Elrond looked at her for a moment, but then shook his head and answered: "No, you will not be punished."

"But I was the one responsible for them. Their deaths fall upon me," Namiriel argued.

"Yes, they do."

"Then I am the one to blame. If I hadn't decided to leave the road, if we had taken some weapons with us…"

"Let us not throw blame around. If the orcs wouldn't have attacked you, they would have most certainly attacked Thranduil's company. You couldn't have prevented endangering innocent lives. After all, there haven't been any sightings of orcs that close to Imlardis for over a decade. Particularly near the roads the patrols quite often use. No one could have been prepared, it was just an unfortunate accident," Elrond said.

Namiriel unhappily nodded. She knew that Elrond was right, but she also remembered the deaths of her companions. Arvellas, who died protecting her, his eyes full of pain and agony when he took his last breath. The image had burned into her memories.

Elrond continued: "Today's events are a lesson to us both. I hope you make your own conclusions."

"Of course," Namiriel responded and stood up.

"Please close the door when you leave," Elrond said and leaned back on his chair. Namiriel nodded and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind her. She walked slowly down the hallway, unconsciously heading towards the stables.

There was no one in the stables at this time of the day. Elrond had sent out a patrol to make sure there weren't any more orcs and most of the quests had went to visit the gardens to take a walk before the evening feast. Today's feast was going to be more informal – since everyone was already acquainted – and less gallant. Namiriel had looked forward to it just a few days ago, but right now she didn't feel like partying. Instead she decided to look around in the stables.

She loved the slightly musky scent of the horses and she often visited the stables when she wished to be alone. Namiriel noticed her horse in one of the compartments. He had probably returned to Imladris by himself, horses often returned when they had lost their riders. She was glad to see that he was well and she headed to the animal.

Her horse noticed her as soon as she approached him and neighed, tossing his head happily. Namiriel smiled, grabbed a brush from the shelf and started sliding it gently down the horse's sides. He liked her touch and lowered his head so she could better brush his neck and mane. The horse neighed in pleasure and Namiriel continued caressing him for a while, quietly humming a song she had heard long ago.

After she had finished brushing him, she put away the brush and noticed her bow and quiver hanging on the weapon rack on the wall – the king's companion had returned it before they left. She went to the rack, took her bow and sat down on the bench. She examined it closely. Thranduil had immediately recognized it as a noldorin weapon, but she didn't see anything exceptional about it. The wood had gone black after all these years and the bow was carved to look like many branches were entwined with each other. She had recently replaced the string and it twanged upon the touch of her fingertips. She slowly turned the bow around in her hands. Taking a closer look at the handle she noticed a small carving. She lifted the bow closer to her eyes and saw that her mother's name was in the carving. Interesting, she hadn't noticed that before. Suddenly she heard someone coming. Namiriel rested the bow on her knees and looked up. Her eyes met Thannor's.

"I was looking for you," he said and sat down beside her.

"Is there something I can do for you," Namiriel asked.

"No, I just wanted to see how you were," Thannor stated simply.

Namiriel smiled and said: "I am perfectly well, thank you."

He nodded knowingly. "The king heightened your mood?"

"Thranduil was indeed very likeable," she stated calmly.

"Thranduil now, is it?" he asked bitterly.

"I gather you don't think highly of him."

"Oh, he is _the king_, how could I dislike him," Thannor said sarcastically.

"Please, Thannor," Namiriel said and sighed slightly.

"He is lofty and irreverent," he said and stood up. "I can't understand how you enjoy his company."

"You don't know him, Thannor."

"And you do?"

Namiriel remained silent for a trice and then silently said: "No." Thannor nodded and walked out of the stables. _No, I do not,_ she repeated in her mind as Thannor left. Namiriel remained in the stables for another while, resting her head against the wooden wall and humming a familiar tune.

The sun was setting and cool wind blew over the city. Lights were being lit all around and Imladris came into life in the yellow glow of the shivering candlelight. Namiriel took a short cape from the stables and pulled it around her. The day had been unusually warm, although the winds were still sharp and cold air came down from the mountains. Namiriel slowly walked across a patio. It was quiet except for the constant murmur of the river. The last sunrays disappeared behind the horizon as Namiriel stepped into the warmth of the house. She went down the dimly lit hallway and for a moment considered going to the party, but then decided she didn't feel like it. Instead she made her way into her room.

Namiriel's room wasn't very big. It was lit by a large window to the west. A richly decorated wardrobe stood by the wall on the left of the door. Further away from the door was a four poster bed and next to it a nightstand with a couple of books and a candlestick. A dressing table with a large mirror and a chair stood on the opposite side of the room, on it were a few jewelry boxes and a crocheted kerchief. Next to it was a small table with a water bowl and a jug. On the right, closer to the door, stood a large locked chest. In the middle of the room was a small rug.

She sat on the bed and slowly removed her boots. Hiding her bare feet into the soft fabric of the rug, she leaned back and let herself fall on the bed. She felt tiredness creep through her bones. Slowly she rose and took off her dress; she had changed her torn and dirty riding clothes before she went to speak with Elrond. Namiriel walked to the water bowl and threw a handful of clear water over her face. She looked in the mirror. The same young woman looked back at her like she always had, but today she seemed a bit more crestfallen. Namiriel gently touched her reflection. The woman in the mirror mimicked her movement. She looked her in the eye. The reflection did the same. If anyone had seen her right now, it would have seemed like she saw her reflection for the first time. But she had seen it every day for the last nine hundred and six years.

Namiriel looked at her reflection for another moment. There was something different about it, but she couldn't tell what it was. Turning away from the mirror, she suddenly felt she needed to get away. Away from Imladris, to some place she hadn't been to for a long time – maybe Lothlórien. She might just accept Thannor's invitation to visit him. Namiriel smiled: it was decided, she was going to Lothlórien. Then she went to the dresser, took her nightgown and pulled it over her head.

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**A/N: **I really wanted to write a scene where she looks into herself and tries to understand her feelings. I'm not very good at psychology, so I don't know how well it went. I hope it got through.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **Hey again!

I took myself another day to finish this chapter, because I didn't want to post it incomplete.

Enjoy!

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She sat on an old bench on the bank of a small crystal clear lake. Trees around her were glimmering golden in the light of the sun and a slight summer wind blew through her hair. The woods of Lothlórien were full of life and incredibly beautiful. It was _Urui, _the last month of _laer_, or summer as the Men call it.

Namiriel had left Imladris with the other Galadhrim elves – the elves of Lothlórien – a few weeks after the spring celebrations. It is hard to describe Thannor's joy, when he found out she was joining them. He kept her company for the most part of the trip and Namiriel found him to be quite amiable and, in addition to his ability to keep up conversation, also a good listener.

She had been in Lothlórien the whole summer. Namiriel and Thannor spent a lot of days together, but a few weeks ago he was accepted to the army and after that they hadn't seen each other very often. She had to fill the days on her own. Namiriel began to take long walks in the woods and this is how she discovered this place by the lake. It seemed old and forgotten when she first came here and like no one had visited it for hundreds of years. Namiriel couldn't help but wonder why such a wonderful place had seemed to become forgotten. The lake was quite close to the City of the Trees – Caras Galadhon –, but it was far enough for the tumult not to reach it. It was almost mysterious in its serenity and sitting by it made Namiriel feel like all her fears and troubles couldn't get to her. Maybe that is why she loved to sit there – the lake eased her worries and let her breathe freely, knowing that nobody would disturb her.

During the time she had spent here by the lake, Namiriel had had plenty of time to think, mainly about the reason she had come to Lothlórien in the first place. She had always liked travelling and so she had been very glad to get away from Imladris. And somehow, she felt it had been the right thing to do. She didn't really belong there, between the cold mountains and roaring rivers. Imladris was, of course, beautiful in its own way, but Namiriel longed for a place that was more tranquil, especially since the party. Maybe she had come here because she hadn't felt quite herself lately, but Namiriel couldn't tell what was different about her. She just knew that she was looking for something that would make her feel at peace with herself and something that would make her feel like she belonged somewhere. A feeling inside her had led her here, to Lothlórien, and she hoped to find some answers here.

"Namiriel," a female voice behind her said softly.

"My lady," Namiriel answered, turning her head. It was lady Galadriel. Her white dress gleamed in the sunlight and her magnificent golden hair fell down her back, giving her an angelic appearance. _How long had she stood there?_ Namiriel thought. Galadriel smiled and sat on the bench beside her.

"I only just arrived," she answered. Her eyes drifted over the lake. Galadriel was probably the most beautiful woman Namiriel had ever had the chance to meet.

"I didn't think anyone came here, my lady," Namiriel said and looked at the woman.

"You do. Almost every day," Galadriel told. "It gives you peace."

"Yes, it does."

"There are many things on your mind," Galadriel said.

Namiriel nodded.

"Tell me."

Namiriel remained silent for a moment and then said: "Since the party in Imladris, and the day afterwards, I… I can barely understand my own thoughts and feelings. I feel like there lies emptiness inside of me. That is why I came here: I hoped that it would go away."

"No matter where you go, you cannot run away from yourself," Galadriel stated.

"No, I cannot, I've understood that now," Namiriel said. "Yet I do not know why I feel this way, like a part of me is missing – a part of who I am. I hoped that being with Thannor could make me feel better and, for a while, it did, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get rid of this feeling."

"Because Thannor couldn't return you something he did not take away. He merely let your mind rest and concentrate on other things. When he is no longer around, you have more time for yourself."

"Yes, perhaps you are right. He has become a very good friend to me."

Galadriel didn't answer at once, she remained quiet and thoughtful and then said: "For you he is no more than a friend, but for him you are everything. He has become to care for you a great deal."

"So he really _is_ in love with me," Namiriel said silently, mainly to herself. She had wondered about it for a while after Thranduil had made a remark about it. And although Namiriel considered herself good at understanding people, she was unable to tell if Thannor was thinking of her only as a friend or something more than that. However, he acted so nice and jolly around her that she had soon discarded that idea.

"Do not worry, he is young, he will get over you," Galadriel told.

"I should have known. Thranduil also said to me that Thannor might consider me as something more than a friend, but I did not want to believe him."

"Thranduil?"

"Yes," Namiriel said with a gentle smile. "I met him early this year. We spoke briefly after he rescued me and a few others from the orcs. I found him to be very suave and kind, unlike what I have heard people say about him."

"Not many would describe him as suave. I gather there is something more to him than that. You like him, do you not?"

"He is most likeable indeed. When I was with him, I felt safe and it gave me a certain sense of belonging. I cannot find the words to describe it. But I liked it, I liked _him_." Namiriel felt her cheeks getting warmer as she said the last words. Galadriel looked at her gently.

"There is nothing wrong with liking someone," she said. "However, I must warn you to be careful with Thranduil, there is more to him than shows. He has experienced great loss in his lifetime and he may not find strength to care for anyone again."

"I will remember that," Namiriel said. Galadriel smiled and stood up.

"Come now, let us walk back to the city. The evening will soon be upon us."

Namiriel nodded and the two women walked together through the woods. The city lights were soon visible through the trees and as they reached a small trail running between the tree roots they could hear many cheering elves.

"Is there going to be a feast today?" Namiriel asked, seeing a few elves hurrying around with platters. They were walking towards the centre of the city, now the trail had grown wider and several flets and small houses could be seen on the trees above their heads. Wooden stairs, that looked like they had grown out of a tree, lead up to the flets and there were several bridges connecting them.

"Yes, we will have quests. They should arrive any moment," Galadriel said. As they reached a small square, they saw several horses approaching. At first, Namiriel couldn't make out who the riders were, but then she saw the first two were carrying banners. The banners of the Woodland Realm.

The horses stopped near the centre of the square, letting their riders dismount. Namiriel recognized some of them, but a figure in the centre caught her eye. He was wearing light armor, a long silver-green cape and a crown of leaves and wild flowers.

_Thranduil_.

* * *

**A/N: **I took the liberty of skipping the Namiriel-Thannor scenes and summed up the summer in a few sentences. Because the story isn't about Thannor, whom I made up in five minutes (read: looked for a name) and originally wasn't going to give as much limelight as he has become now. But you can't really blame him for falling for a lady with a bow: everybody likes bows, right?

Oh, and _a flet_ is a wooden platform on the branches of a tree. Some flets are just simply platforms, others have houses on them. Just to clear that one up, I didn't know what flets were until yesterday, either.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **I have forgotten to mention before that I'm using the version, where Gil-galad was the son of Orodreth and a member of the house of Finarfin. And Orodreth was Galadriel's brother. There are other versions of this, but this one makes most sense from the point of the story.

Anyways, here's the new chapter. The translations to the elven phrases are in the end.

Enjoy!

* * *

Thranduil gave the reins of his horse to one of his companions and approached them over the square. His tall posture made him look intimidating as he walked, lightly resting his hand on the hilt of his sword.

"Lady Galadriel," he said. "Thank you for agreeing to arrange this meeting."

"Thranduil, it is always a pleasure," Galadriel answered. "I believe you are already acquainted with Namiriel." She looked at Thranduil for a moment. "My great-niece," Galadriel added quietly, understanding that she had told him who she was.

"It is a pleasure to meet you again, Namiriel," he told her and glanced shortly at Galadriel.

Namiriel curtsied politely. "My king," she said, but then remembered the king had asked her to call him by his name. "Thranduil," she quickly corrected herself. The corner of his mouth slightly rose in an amused smirk.

"Your companions will be guided to their quarters," Galadriel said. "Amroth is already waiting."

"Then let him wait no more," Thranduil uttered. They walked back along the road Namiriel and Galadriel had before come down from and turned towards the hill of Cerin Amroth, the king's residence, located a little away from the city of Caras Galadhon. Amroth, the king of Lothlórien, lived on a large flet in the branches of a tall tree on the top of the hill. It was surrounded by two rings of trees, the trees of the outer ring had white bark and the trees of the inner ring were golden-leaved mallorn-trees that grew nowhere else in Middle-Earth, but Lothlórien.

They met Amroth near the outer circle of the trees. He was a tall, silver-haired man wearing a long green-golden robe and a golden circlet on his head.

"Thranduil!" Amroth exclaimed as he saw them approaching and nodded to the two women in greeting. "_Gwannas lû and!_" he said to Thranduil.

"_Gi suilannon,_ my friend," Thranduil answered.

"How was your journey?" Amroth inquired and gestured Thranduil to take a walk between the trees.

"Fortunately it was quite uneventful," Thranduil said as they walked down the trail away from the women. "However, we saw tracks of a dozen orcs leading towards Lórien. They were about two days of age."

"Ah, yes, my patrols caught them near the borders of the forest. A minor inconvenience, there is nothing to be concerned about."

"I think otherwise…" Thranduil said, but then they disappeared behind the trees and Namiriel could no longer separate their words. She looked at Galadriel who had slowly begun walking back towards the city. Namiriel caught up with her in a few quick steps. Walking beside her, she asked: "Why did you not tell me he was coming?"

"Would that have made any difference?" Galadriel inquired.

Namiriel remained silent. "No, I suppose not," she finally said. "But it would have been good to know." They continued walking in silence for another few minutes. Then Namiriel said: "I wonder what the reason of his visit is."

"_That_ you must ask him yourself," Galadriel answered.

"You do not know his mind?"

Galadriel smiled, but did not answer.

"Or you will not tell me?" Namiriel asked.

"It is not mine to tell you, what is on other people's minds," she said. Namiriel nodded, she had expected her to say something like that.

Meanwhile, the elves had set up several tables in the city square. Food was being brought onto them and the trees around the square had been decorated with small lanterns. All shone in their shivering light. Many elves had already gathered and talked to each other in silent voices. Namiriel also noticed the Greenwood elves among the crowd, recognizing them by their green-silvery robes – the Galadhrim preferred to wear white and golden colors.

As Amroth and Thranduil arrived, all elves took their seats. Namiriel noticed that Thranduil had changed his armor to a long silvery robe more fitting for the occasion. He was on Amroth's right hand, as the guest of honor, and Galadriel, Celeborn and Namiriel were on Amroth's left. The king of Lothlórien made a short speech to thank the quests for coming and to wish them good stay, after which the feast resumed in usual rhythm: some musicians played a flowing tune on their instruments, a few of the elves danced and others were engaged in conversations with those sitting close to them.

Namiriel was having talking to a few elves across the table when she overheard Thranduil and Amroth speaking about the woods of Lothlórien.

"If you have the chance, I would suggest taking a small stroll in the woods around the city," Galadriel told Thranduil, joining the conversation.

"I say! It is a wonderful idea!" Amroth said enthusiastically. "What do you think?"

"I think I cannot refuse," Thranduil said simply.

"Good," Amroth said. "I would love to give you a tour myself." He stopped for a moment, "however, I am afraid I am rather occupied at this time. Galadriel, would you agree to entertain our quest?"

Galadriel smiled and said: "I do not think I would be the right person to do that. Namiriel, however, would make an excellent guide."

"Namiriel, what say you?" Amroth asked. Namiriel was quite speechless for a moment, but then she hesitantly said: "It would be an honor."

"Wonderful, then it is decided," Amroth exclaimed cheerfully.

Had Galadriel just done what Namiriel thought she had done? A while ago she had warned her about Thranduil and now… Namiriel didn't understand why Galadriel had done that. _Answers will come to you, when you least seek them_, had she once said. Maybe she was right.

As the hours ticked closer to the dawn, the sweet Dorwinion wine was running out and all of the elves were nicely tipsy – except for Galadriel, Namiriel and also Thranduil, who seemed quite clear-headed despite his glass being refilled every time he took a sip – the party was slowly drawing to a close as the tiredness crept through the crowd. Elves were leaving in small groups to go back to their flets and get some rest before the day dawns. Namiriel also stood up, tired from the long party, and started walking away from the crowd, towards her quarters.

"May I accompany you?" a voice behind her asked. She recognized it immediately.

"If you wish," Namiriel answered without turning her head. He walked beside her. She inquired: "What brought you here, if I may ask?"

"Of course you may ask. However I do not have to answer," he said mysteriously.

"Is there any harm in telling me?"

"Most likely not," Thranduil answered. "There have been troubles with orcs along the southwestern borders of Greenwood. Nothing we couldn't handle, but it would be more effective to keep both realms safe if we worked together with the forces of Lothlórien."

"So you wish to discuss military plans with king Amroth?"

"One can draw such a conclusion. Although as long as I have had the pleasure of knoing him, he has had little wish to discuss something security related." He frowned. "But I assure you, everything will be dealt with and the orc attacks will be stopped. If I am unable to talk some sense into Amroth, I am confident Celeborn is, for he also finds the recent activity of the orcs somewhat distressing."

"That is good to hear," Namiriel said.

"But what is more interesting than making some political treaties: what are _you_ doing here," Thranduil inquired. "Our paths seem to cross every so often."

"I have been here the whole summer. Thannor was kind enough to invite me to visit," Namiriel answered.

"I am not surprised. However, I would not lay too many hopes on him if I were you. He may not be who he seems," Thranduil said thoughtfully.

Namiriel looked at him. "Neither are you," she stated.

He smirked ever so slightly. "In that you may be correct. But let us leave this conversation for another time," he said. They had stopped on the trail near a staircase leading up to a flet in the branches of a tree – Namiriel's quarters. _How did he know where she lived?_ Thranduil continued: "The hour is already early and we both should rest before the events of tomorrow."

"Yes, you may be right." She started going up the stairs, but stopped after a few steps and turned back. "I wish you a good night, Thranduil," she said.

"And I you. _Losto vae_." He began walking back down the road towards the city. Namiriel looked after him for a moment and then entered the cozy interior of her chamber.

* * *

_Gwannas lû and_ – it's been too long

_Gi suilannon_ – I give greetings to you

_Losto vae_ – sleep well

**A/N:** At this time, Galadriel is not yet permanently living in Lothlórien, but rather visits it once in a while and lives mostly in Rivendell. The king of Lothlórien during the first two millennia of the Third Age is Amroth. His father Amdir, the previous king of Lothlórien, was killed with over half of his army during the War of the Last Alliance in the Dead Marshes (the bodies Frodo saw in swamp under water in the Lord of the Rings)


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: **Sorry, everyone. I had a rough week so I didn't have any time to write. At all. Why is it always so that when the spring comes, all the teachers suddenly decide it is a good idea to make end-of-the-schoolyear tests…

But enough of my blabbering, you're not here to read that. I finally finished the new chapter, so…

… enjoy!

* * *

The afternoon proved to be sunny and warm. Namiriel walked down a trail towards the stables. She still had a little time until the end of the meeting between Thranduil, Amroth and Celeborn. After that she had agreed to show Thranduil around the forest, or in other words, she couldn't have disagreed. So she walked to the stables. There were a few other elves there, setting ready their horses and conversing silently with one another. Namiriel went past them to the farthest end of the building.

"_Ae, _Súletál," she called as she approached her white brown-spotted horse. He turned his head and neighed cheerfully in response. She slid her hand through the horse's silky mane. Then she took a saddle from the rack and set it on his back. Súletál turned his head and watched her keenly as she secured the saddle.

"Good boy," she said and stroke his neck.

"You do know he cannot understand what you say," a male voice told.

Namiriel blushed. "Yes," she answered. "But it never hurts to be kind."

"In that you are correct," Thranduil said. "Are you ready to leave?" He was wearing a long silvery coat, embroidered with blue threads and on his head a silver circlet.

"Yes, in a moment." She secured the halter around Súletál's head and attached the reins to it. "Now I am ready. Let us go," she said and led her horse outside where Thranduil was already waiting. She also mounted her horse and they began slowly trotting down the trail, out of the city.

"How was today's meeting, if I may ask?" Namiriel said.

"I must admit, it went better than I had previously expected," Thranduil answered. "Amroth naturally remained true to his beliefs. However, I think I and Celeborn made terrific progress in convincing him about the need to coordinate the movement of our border guards and halt the progress of the orcs."

"So, you will continue tomorrow?" Namiriel enquired.

"Yes, of course," Thranduil said. "Why? Do you take an interest in politics?"

Namiriel laughed. "No, I mostly try to stay out of the political affairs. To be honest, I was only wondering about the length of your stay."

"Then you could have asked so in the beginning," Thranduil stated.

"I suppose I could have, although I do not find it a polite thing to do. Therefore I never ask directly about someone's length of stay. They are welcome as long as they like."

"You have been well educated."

Namiriel said: "Well, I am after all…" she silenced her voice, "… a princess."

"A princess that has no interest in politics?" He asked with a smirk.

"Everyone finds interest in different things, politics are not one of mine," Namiriel responded.

"Tell me, for I was wondering, do you have claim to the throne?"

"If I had, would I not have taken it already?" Namiriel asked.

"There could be a number of reasons, why you refused to accept it, even when you came of age."

Namiriel nodded. "That is also a possibility, however, the answer to your question would be no. I do not have claim to the throne, simply because I am a woman. A woman cannot be a king and there is no throne for a queen. That is the law, which I must follow."

"But if you were to have a son?" Thranduil enquired.

"Then my son could claim my father's throne and become a new High King. And that is the reason why some people want me dead – a new High King could gather considerable armies and resources, all the Eldar would follow him."

"Is that why so few people know who you really are?"

"Yes, and that has kept me alive for so long," Namiriel said. "But enough about me. How did _you_ become the king of the Woodland Realm?"

"After the death of the last king, of course," Thranduil responded a bit evasively. Namiriel looked at him thoughtfully for a moment and then said: "I meant before that."

"I know," Thranduil said.

"Will you tell me or shall I try to guess?"

"Please, go ahead," Thranduil answered.

"Very well. You are certainly of noble birth, but I would not go as far to say that you're a member of a royal house, at least, did not use to be. I think the Silvan chose your father as their king, though I cannot tell the exact time, when this could have happened. Also, I do not suppose I am much younger than yourself," Namiriel stated.

"A mere three and a half millennia younger," Thranduil said and smirked, seeing the astonished look on Namiriel's face. "But you were right about the other things."

"You are saying you were born in the First Age?"

"Yes," Thranduil said simply. "I was born in Doriath before its fall. After the War of Wrath I and Oropher, my father, travelled east over the Blue Mountains and reached Greenwood the Great. There we met the Silvan elves living in these woods. They offered us their hospitality and we taught them Sindarin crafts. In return, they made my father their king. That was early in the Second Age."

"And your mother?"

"She departed the Middle-Earth with many others. I was very young when she left."

"I am sorry," Namiriel said.

"Why? She is safe and well in the lands of the Valar, there is no reason to grieve," he answered.

Namiriel remained silent for a while and they continued down the forest trail. Trees glimmered in the sun silent murmur of a river could be heard in the distance.

"We are nearing the river Silverlode," Namiriel finally stated. It was a deep clear river that flowed swiftly down from the Misty Mountains and through the woods of Lothlórien. They slowed their pace and continued down a straight path on the northeastern bank of the river. It was covered with smooth stones, polished by the spring floods. The trees bowed over the deep-blue water, making it gleam in gold and silver.

"It is beautiful," Thranduil said.

"Yes, it is" Namiriel responded. She halted her horse and dismounted, as did Thranduil. They walked closer to the edge of water and looked over the river.

"The cold water flows down from the Misty Mountains," Namiriel said. "Upstream the river is joined by a brook called Nimrodel. There is a beautiful waterfall there. A story tells that if one is near the waterfall long enough, one can hear the elf maiden – for whom the stream was named – singing." She stepped onto a stone on the brink of the water.

"Yes, I have seen her," Thranduil answered.

"You have? Then…," Namiriel said and turned towards him. But suddenly she lost her footing. "Aah!" She slipped on the stone, falling backwards towards the water.

But just before she came to think she was going to get wet, a strong arm grabbed around her waist and pulled her back up and onto the river bank. She looked up to her rescuer. Thranduil was still holding her by her waist, his eyes fixed into hers. He was so close, a mere few inches separating his face from hers. _Too close. _Namiriel could almost feel his presence.

_His fresh scent filling her nose. _

_His eyes looking into hers. _

_His lips slightly parted._

_His soft breath against her cheeks. _

A light shiver ran up Namiriel's spine, though she wasn't cold. And she wasn't scared. Maybe she should have been? It all lasted just for a moment, but it was one of those moments that could last a lifetime.

"Be careful," he said and let go of her. He walked back to the horses. "Shall we return to Caras Galadhon, I still have some business to take care of."

"Of course," Namiriel answered and climbed onto Súletál's back, trying to gather herself. "Let us ride a bit downstream and return to the city from south."

Thranduil agreed and they rode down the trail, river flowing swiftly beside them.

"I forgot to thank you," Namiriel stated.

"For what?"

"For saving me from falling into the river. Thank you."

"You are welcome," Thranduil simply answered.

"You said you had seen Nimrodel and heard her song. I did not know you had been here before," Namiriel said.

"I have been in Lothlórien many times. It is most likely, that I know these woods better than you do. Nimrodel is a charming and kind woman. I have known her for a while and I very much enjoy her company," he explained.

"Then why did you agree to undertake this tour? You could have ridden around on your own if you wished to," Namiriel said. "Or with her," she added a moment later.

"You may have misunderstood me, Namiriel."

"How so?" she asked, looking at him.

"Nimrodel is most hearty, but frankly she not the type of woman I would fancy," he said earnestly.

Namiriel blushed slightly. "Forgive me. You just spoke very highly of her, I made a premature conclusion."

"Yes, you did. I have never been married," he stated.

"No? After all this time?"

He nodded and then thoughtfully said: "I was engaged once, to a beautiful Silvan elf. My father did not like her, because he thought the Silvan were lower than us, but I... I loved her."

"What was her name?" Namiriel asked.

"Elanor," he said. "She was modest, gentle and very very beautiful. She had long coppery brown hair and hazel-colored eyes." He closed his eyes, an expression of pain covering his face, but it quickly disappeared.

"What happened?"

"She died," he answered shortly. "A few weeks before our wedding."

Namiriel remained silent for a while, so he continued: "She was killed by a pack of Orcs. Someone betrayed me and let them into the castle. She happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. I tried to save her, but... an orcish arrow killed her between my arms. It was my fault that she died." His was stern, sorrowful as he spoke.

"You cannot blame yourself. As you said, she was at the wrong place at the wrong time."

"But how could I ever forgive myself? She was the only woman I had ever loved."

Never so much as right now, Namiriel wanted to hug him and tell him everything was going to be well. She wanted to tell him how much she cared. But she did not dare.

"Namiriel!" someone suddenly yelled her name. She looked around, trying to identify the source. A man was riding quickly towards them and as he got closer, she recognized him. _Thannor._

"I have looked everywhere for you," he said, stopping his horse and throwing a displeased glimpse at Thranduil. "My king," he said to him politely, although he was not quite able to hide his sulkiness.

"What are you doing here?" Namiriel asked.

"I got some time off, I figured we could do something together," he said. "But I can see that it isn't the case."

"Well, you can join us," Namiriel offered. "We were just heading back to the city."

Thannor considered the proposal for a moment and then said: "I might as well." He steered his horse beside them.

A few minutes of silence ensued, but Thannor soon became tired of it and stated: "It is a custom for the highest ranked member of the company to begin the conversation." He threw a slightly reproachful look at Thranduil. Thranduil in return glimpsed at Namiriel, who slightly shook her head. Thannor didn't have any idea that it was actually her, who was of the highest rank.

"Yes, I am aware of such customs," Thranduil answered. "However, under the circumstances I have decided to disregard it."

"If that is your wish," Thannor said coldly.

The remainder of the trip proceeded fairly awkwardly and silently, although Namiriel tried to make a few remarks about the road and even attempted some small-talk about the weather. Thranduil mostly answered her politely with short sentences, Thannor, however, did not even try to hold a conversation.

But finally they reached Caras Galadhon as the Sun was already falling behind trees, the forest glimmering as golden as ever.

* * *

**A/N: **Story continues in the next chapter…

(There really was no need to tell you that, was there?)


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: **I thought I wouldn't be able to update this week, but luckily I was wrong.

I write just in case: Disclaimer: I do not own the lyrics of that song.

Okay, now that that's over with,

Enjoy!

* * *

The morning was warm and sunny. The dew opalesced on the ground as Namiriel entered a small glade in the outskirts of the city. The glade was covered in wild flowers, though many had yet to open their petals, because it was still early in the morning. She sat a bench in the shade of surrounding trees and remained waiting. She and Thannor had agreed to meet here today, though Namiriel didn't exactly know, why.

Thannor was late. He had told he would arrive when the sun touched the treetops, but he still wasn't here. Namiriel stood up from the bench and made a small walk around the glade. The sun was getting higher by every minute and it was already high above the trees. Namiriel picked some flowers and sat back down on the bench. She began braiding the flowers together into a wreath. Suddenly she remembered an old song and couldn't help but to start singing.

_The leaves were long, the grass was green,  
The hemlock-umbels tall and fair,  
And in the glade a light was seen  
Of stars in shadow shimmering._

She couldn't remember where she had heard it, but it sounded so familiar.

_Tin__ú__viel was dancing there  
To music of a pipe unseen,  
And light of stars was in her hair  
And in her raiment glimmering._

She sang silently and continued braiding the flowers.

_There Beren came from mountains cold,  
And lost he wandered under leaves,  
And where the Elven-river rolled  
He walked alone and sorrowing._

She had almost finished the wreath.

_He peered between the hemlock-leaves  
And saw in wonder flowers of gold  
Upon her mantle and her sleeves,  
And her hair like shadow following._

She laid the flower wreath on her head.

"I didn't know you could sing so beautifully," Thannor said, appearing between the trees.

"Thank you," Namiriel answered. "I was beginning to wonder if you would come."

"I promised, did I not?"

"Yes, you did." She gestured him to sit beside her.

"I apologize for being late, I was held back by the meeting."

"You were there? Have they decided anything?"

"Yes, it seemed like it. Celeborn and Thranduil have managed to persuade the king in the necessity of coordinated defense. The orcs will soon be nothing more than a nuisance," he said.

"When will they begin with the campaign?"

"This autumn, I believe. As I left they were agreeing on final details. But don't concern yourself with it; politics is a foul play not suitable for women."

"Oh, I see," Namiriel answered shortly.

"Please, I didn't mean to insult you," Thannor said and put his hand around her. "Those last few days have been most tiresome. At least soon he'll be gone and everything will return to normal."

"Thranduil?"

"Yes, he's leaving tomorrow. You didn't know?" he asked, looking quite surprised. A similar surprised look was on Namiriel's face as well.

"No, I had no idea," she answered.

"Well, now you know. Amroth is arranging some farewell feast tonight, everyone's invited."

"I suppose I should go there as well, then," Namiriel said, pulling herself away from his embrace.

Thannor looked at her with a frustrated smirk. "You really do like him, don't you?"

"Do you want me to answer?"

"You don't need to," he said sulkily. "What has he got that I don't?"

Namiriel remained silent.

"Forget I asked," Thannor uttered. "What I have been trying to say is…" He grasped her hands into his. "… I can offer you safety and a long and a peaceful life if you stay here, with me, in Lothlórien."

She shook her head and stood up, freeing her hands. "No, Thannor, I cannot."

"Why? Is it because of him? Has he done something to even slightly indicate that he likes you?" His voice grew louder as he spoke.

She began walking away from him as she felt tears running down her cheeks. "No, it is not because of you or him or anyone else! It is because of me. Because you don't even know who I am!" She did not need him to see her cry. Not now. Namiriel quickened her step.

"Namiriel, wait!" was the last thing she heard before she vanished behind the trees. She noticed she had started to run.

She circled around the city, hoping to get into her quarters without anyone noticing, but as she came upon a road, she almost ran into Amroth. He, seemingly surprised about someone running out of the woods, turned around and caught her between his arms.

"What on Middle-Earth happened to you?" he asked, releasing her from his grasp.

"I am fine," Namiriel answered, quickly drying her tears and giving him a reassuring smile.

"If you say so," Amroth said slightly doubtfully. "To be honest, I was just looking for you. I wished to tell you that since Thranduil is leaving earlier than planned, there is going to be a farewell feast today. I hope you will be there."

Although he made it sound like a request, she knew that now, after he had personally voiced it, it would be outright rude to refuse. "Of course I will attend," Namiriel said.

"Good. And wear something nice," he said, glancing down at her dress. Several small branches and leaves had tangled between the pleats of her skirt and into her hair. Namiriel realized she probably looked pretty terrible right now.

"I will." She smiled reassuringly and quickly began walking towards her quarters, hoping that she wouldn't be seen.

And luckily she was successful in sneaking through the outskirts of the city without anyone else noticing her. Well, except for that one old elf that was carrying a bowl of fruit and seeing Namiriel, muttered something about youth being wasted on the young. But Namiriel didn't feel like stopping to answer her and arrived at her quarters without further difficulties.

Namiriel removed her dress, pleased to note that it hadn't been torn and poured some water into a bowl. She washed her hands and face, letting the cool water pour down her shoulders and drip onto the floor. She stood there for a few moments before taking a towel and drying herself. Only now was she fully beginning to understand exactly what had happened in the glade. The wreath was lying on her bed. Namiriel carefully picked it up – the flowers were still fresh and somehow she knew they would stay so for several days. She sat on the bed and closed her eyes.

_Why did Thannor have to do this? Why did he have to make it all so complicated?_ She thought. _And what is she going to tell him when she sees him again?_ _It is all so tiring. I came to Lothlórien in hope of some answers, but all I have is more questions. _It couldn't go on like this. She couldn't go on like this. Maybe if she talked to someone… maybe if she went somewhere… but where? Back to Imladris? No, that wasn't an option. But where else could she go? Namiriel stood up and looked outside. The sun was already setting and she had to get herself ready for the feast.

She decided to wear her long jade-green dress with white embroidery. It was one of her most beautiful dresses, except for the sea blue one she had worn in Imladris. And instead of wearing her usual silvery circlet, Namiriel kept her flower wreath, for it fit the dress wonderfully. Going outside, she grabbed her short cape, because the nights were already cool.

She walked slowly down the trail. Slowly enough to arrive after the speeches had been made and the party had already started. Silently she slipped into the crowd, giving the impression like she had been there for a while. Not a moment had passed from her arrival, when a handsome elf asked her for a dance. Namiriel hesitantly agreed.

He seemed to be a genuinely nice and respectable person and from his clothing Namiriel could tell that he was of nobler blood, perhaps a son of one of the king's counselors, but the fastness of the dance didn't give her a chance to get to know him better. Instead, she used the rapid turns to get a good look around the party field. Namiriel was unable to locate Thannor, though it was very likely that he had decided not to come, especially after what happened earlier. Instead she spotted some other familiar faces. She saw Galadriel and Celeborn conversing silently with each other and Amroth and Thranduil further away. After the dance had ended, he politely thanked her and expressed his hope she would grant him another dance later in the evening. Namiriel answered something vague and before he could say another word, she had disappeared into the crowd.

She mingled with some of the quests and tried to take part in a conversation about this year's harvest, though the latter could be considered an unsuccessful attempt, because she did not look like a farmer and thus she couldn't possibly know anything about agriculture. So, inevitably, Namiriel soon grew tired of small talk and exchanging courtesies. She decided that, as there was more than enough wine on the table, no one would notice her leaving. Initially she intended to go back to her quarters, but at the last moment decided against it and instead headed towards the lake.

But it was naïve of her to think that nobody would notice her departure, for at least one person did. When Thranduil no longer saw her in the crowd, he excused himself from Amroth's company and began looking for her. Luckily, he caught a glimpse of her golden hair vanishing behind the trees and he silently he followed her as she walked down the trail.

Namiriel pulled her cloak closer around her as the cool night air was beginning to tickle her shoulders. Soft wind blew through her hair as she reached the shore of the lake. Here she was almost unable to hear the loud voices and music of the party. She sat down on the bench, as she had done many times before, and looked over the lake.

Thranduil walked closer, trying not to startle her, but Namiriel heard him approaching and quickly stood up, looking most surprised.

"I apologize, I did not want to startle you," he said.

Namiriel took a deep breath. "It is all right, you did not…" She left her sentence unfinished.

Thranduil smirked and walked beside her. "It is so quiet here. It almost seems like we are the only people within miles."

"Yes, I come here often when I wish to be alone with my thoughts."

"Then I am sorry…," Thranduil started, but before he could finish, Namiriel said: "Oh please, there is no need to apologize." She smiled. "To tell you the truth, I was just thinking about you."

"Oh?" He slightly lifted his eyebrows, although he tried to hide his surprise. Or was it satisfaction he tried to hide? Namiriel wasn't sure.

"Yes, believe it or not," she said. He turned towards her, moving slightly closer.

"And what exactly were your thoughts about, if I may ask?" He said softly, gently moving his hand up her neck and stroking her cheek.

"My king, you are being most meddlesome," she whispered a bit reprovingly. Though she didn't want him to take away his hand.

"Am I?" he asked with a smirk. Namiriel couldn't answer. She felt as if she was drunken. Drunken from his scent, his touch and his warm breath. She looked up towards him, feeling her heart beating faster than ever. Namiriel wished they could stand here like this forever. Thranduil hesitantly parted his lips and before she knew it, pressed them against hers. Namiriel froze in her initial surprise, as she hadn't expected him to act with such boldness, but then she felt a wave of heat running through her and she returned the kiss, synchronizing her lips with his and slipping closer into his arms. It was perfect. _He_ was perfect.

But suddenly Thranduil pulled himself away from her. He closed his eyes and slightly shook his head. "I apologize," he said and looked at her. "I should not have done this, it was wrong of me to think that… I… I do not know _what_ I was thinking… I am truly and deeply sorry." He quickly moved away from her.

_No, don't go! You did nothing wrong. _

Namiriel couldn't get a word out of her mouth.

_Please, stay!_

He stopped for a moment. "Good night," he said shortly over his shoulder and disappeared behind the trees, leaving her standing there, alone.

_Thranduil…_

She was crying. Again. It couldn't go on like this. She wanted to go away… and now she knew where. Home, her real home, the place where she was born.

The same night she packed a small bag, secured her bow on her back, harnessed Súletál and rode out of the city, telling no one of her departure. If she was lucky, they would only notice it in the morning, but by then she would already be too far.

* * *

**A/N: **Another party scene, it almost seems like that's all that the elves do. But well, I've always thought that the elves in the Lord of the Rings are a bit too serious and solemn compared to the elves in the Hobbit that secretly get drunk in the king's wine cellar.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: **I got some feedback about the previous chapter and Thranduil's reaction. He will explain it himself later on, but for now I'll just say that at that moment he had no idea about Namiriel's affection towards him. Also, it was quite impolite of him to intrude on her like this without saying anything.

But here's a new chapter, fresh from print.

Enjoy!

* * *

As the morning dawned, Namiriel had left the woods of Lothlórien and began the long climb over the Misty Mountains. She had chosen the path through the Redhorn Pass, which was deemed impassable in late autumn and winter, when the snow had covered the tracks and the avalanches buried under them every traveler bold and imprudent enough to try to cross it. But at this time of the year the road was clear and dry and, although a bit steep, still fairly easily passable. Because of that in warmer and dryer months elves often used it as a way across the mountains.

Namiriel had left a short note in about her departure in her quarters, explaining the reasons of her leaving, but not specifying her destination or the direction she was travelling in. It was just enough to tell everyone she was well and left by her own decision.

She was able to cross the Redhorn pass in just five days and without major incidents. Once she heard a pack of orcs somewhere near her, but their voices receded quickly, disappearing into some secret caves in the mountains.

After crossing the mountains, she followed river Glanduin, arriving after another three days' travel to the city of Tharbad, an important port on the shores of the river Greyflood. It was a city of Men, fortified heavily by walls of stone and a considerable garrison of soldiers, mariners and engineers. The city was spread out on both banks of the river, connected by the Great Bridge of Tharbad that was also an important crossing point for the traders using the North-South Road.

Namiriel stopped in a small inn near the edge of the city, drawing some odd looks from the innkeeper and several visitors. It was not very uncommon to see elves around here, but usually they traveled in groups and Namiriel, although wearing a long dark woolen cloak, inevitably drew attention. She was only glad she had enough gold with her to avoid inconvenient questions and the innkeeper only nodded in acknowledgment after she had asked for a room.

Namiriel was glad to bathe and sleep on a soft bed after the journey. Her room was fairly small and humble, but good enough for a tired traveler. She decided to rest for the night and look around in the city the next morning.

Her day began fairly early in the morning. She ate her breakfast and generously paid the innkeeper. Then she proceeded into the city. Two ships full of goods had just docked and everyone was busy loading the cargo off decks. The air was full of the smell of fish and sailors' sweat and Namiriel soon began feeling sick of it. No elven town ever smelled like this. She continued down the road, reaching a quieter part of the city where the smell coming from the docks wasn't so strong. Replenishing her food supplies by a local shopkeeper, she noticed a pair of elves going down the street. They were finely dressed, probably merchants passing through, but there was something familiar about them that caught Namiriel's attention. Of course, they wore the cloaks of the elves of Mithlond and she was sure she had seen at least one of them before. Maybe at the party in Imladris? Now it was only the question if they would notice her.

She pulled her hood tightly over her head and continued walking down the street. The elves passed her obliviously and Namiriel already thought she could breathe easier, when one of the passers turned back and exclaimed: "_Iston i n__í__vedh!_"

Namiriel stopped.

"_Ni thelidh?_" she asked

"Yes, you."

The two elves walked to her. Namiriel cursed under her breath and turned around, removing her hood.

"What is a beautiful woman like you doing in a place like this? And all alone?" one of them asked.

"It is not my way to reveal my motives to strangers," Namiriel said.

"We wish you no harm. I'm Curunir and my companion is Eriston," Curunir answered.

"We are traders from Mithlond," Eriston added.

"Now will you tell what ill fate struck your company and how did you end up here?" Curunir asked.

She had little choice. It would have been a most silly thing to run away now – she would have most definitely been found. Namiriel gently touched a dagger hidden under her cloak. _I could probably handle them, if necessary, _she thought. _And maybe they could be useful to me._ Going along with their wishes seemed to be the best option. "Very well," Namiriel finally said. "But I have no wish to discuss such things on a street where everyone could hear us. I suggest we find a place more private."

"I know a nice inn just down this street. There are never many visitors there," Eriston said. Namiriel nodded in agreement and they proceeded onwards.

There were only five other men at the inn, speaking to each other silently. The other tables stood empty, the whole room only being lit by a fireplace and some candles on the walls. The innkeeper was an old man whose best years were long behind him. He greeted the elves with a wordless nod and handed each of them a mug of ale. Curunir paid him and they sat around a table in the corner of the room, as far as possible from the men.

"So, now that we're all here…," Curunir said, sipping his ale, "tell us who you are and what brought you here."

"You may call me Missel," she said. "All you must know is that my destination is the city of Mithlond and I wish to travel alone and inconspicuously for there are people who have no good intentions towards me. Now if you please let me go and continue upon my journey." She stood up.

"No, wait," Curunir said, gesturing her to sit back down. She reluctantly complied. "We are also going to Mithlond, maybe we could offer you company."

"I was not looking for company," Namiriel stated.

"But you would draw much less attention, travelling with two traders. Besides, our honor wouldn't allow leaving a woman alone on her long journey," Eriston spoke.

"You know he is right," Curunir added.

Namiriel sighed. "I suppose I cannot stop you. If that is your wish, I will travel with you; however, I shall not guarantee your safety."

"Then we have agreed," Eriston stated, sipping his ale. Namiriel had left hers untouched.

"Aye! Pretty people!" A man across the room suddenly yelled. The elves didn't react.

"Yes, you! Pretendin' ya don't hear an old sailor like me, huh? 'Cause ya think you're better than me, with your pretty little spells and puny bows and arrows." He walked closer to them, his friends following him with their eyes, ready to jump into action if need be. He had a bulky figure, especially so in contrast with the elves, who seemed small and fragile next to him. Namiriel followed his every footstep, but Curunir and Eriston still seemed to not mind the man.

"You lost your hearing or somethin'? Always being so secretive with your tricks and magic, never teaching us anything. Come on, teach me a magic trick of yours, only one little trick." He stood beside Eriston. The elf looked up to him.

"Move on, there's nothing for you here," Eriston said. The man smiled, he had little left of his teeth.

"Ya sure about that?" the man asked and looked at Namiriel. "And ya have a lady with ya. Pardon me, miss, but your friends owe me and I am here to merely reclaim my debt." He laid his hand on her shoulder.

"Do not touch me," Namiriel said.

"What did ya say? You don't like me, huh?"

"Remove your hand or you shall regret it," Namiriel said and looked up towards him, her eyes unnaturally blue in the dim light.

"Y'all elves are the same," he mumbled, but removed his hand.

"We should get going," Curunir said and stood up.

"No-no-no, you're not goin' anywhere before I say so," the man stated. His friends stood up and assembled behind him.

"We wish you no harm. Let us pass and we shall part peacefully," Eriston said. The man smiled.

"Not gonna happen. Fellas, get 'em!" One of his friends lifted his hand to hit Eriston in the face, but the elf was faster, dodging the hit and landing a punch in his stomach. The man stumbled back, grasping for air. Curunir was attacked from both sides at once, he evaded one hit, pushing the other man back. Then he grabbed a chair and hit a third man with it. Namiriel quickly took the mug of her unfinished ale and hit a man, who was about to attack Curunir, in the head. He fell down unconsciously. Namiriel dropped the mug, but suddenly someone grabbed her from the back – the man they had spoken to. She stepped heavily on his toes, to which the man slightly hissed, but didn't let go of her. Instead, he lifted her feet off the ground so she couldn't step on his toes again. Namiriel reached under her cloak, pulled out the dagger and stabbed the man in his thigh. Groaning, he let her go and fell on the floor.

Other men were still at Curunir and Eriston, who were doing their best to avoid getting hit. Namiriel shook her head and took off her cloak, revealing her long golden hair and dark green tunic on leather pants. She grabbed the bow from her back – it had been hidden under her cloak – and fired a single shot. The arrow missed a man's face by only an inch and hit the wall behind him. He froze in place as the arrow flew past him and looked at Namiriel. Seeing their companion's surprise, the others also turned their heads towards her. She had already set another arrow ready and was aiming at the closest man. Eriston and Curunir also looked at her with surprise on their faces. For a moment there was silence, disturbed only by the moaning of the man Namiriel had stabbed. He still lay on the floor, but there wasn't much blood, – she hadn't hit the artery – he was very likely going to make it. The men and both elves looked at her, all of them unsure of what she was going to do.

Namiriel let the moment linger for another few seconds and then said: "No one else has to get hurt. Let us go and you shall walk away with your lives." The men stared at the elves, but, seeing their leader on the ground, they hesitantly nodded and slowly withdrew to a safer distance.

Namiriel nodded approvingly, put the arrow back into the quiver and secured the bow on her back. Curunir and Eriston also calmed, though their eyes remained fixed on the men. As they walked out of the inn, Namiriel grabbed her cloak and once again threw it over her shoulders. On the door she stopped for a moment to apologize to the innkeeper, who only nodded and continued polishing the glass. He didn't even give a second look.

"I certainly hope our way to Mithlond shall be less eventful," Curunir stated as they were outside and walking down the street. Eriston agreed.

"What was the reason of these men to act with such hostility?" Namiriel asked. "You looked as if you knew them."

"Our roads have crossed before," Eriston stated.

"We caught them dealing with contraband less than a year ago and gave them up to the proper authorities," his friend added.

Eriston nodded. "Clearly, they were released – not thanks to a small sum of gold, I imagine – and hold a grudge against us."

"And what is the story with spells he spoke of?" Namiriel inquired.

Both of them smirked, but then Curunir said: "We might have caused a small explosion in their storehouse to alert the guards."

"It is astonishing what one can do with a right mixture of herbs and some fire powder." Eriston smiled.

Namiriel nodded. In the company of those two, it certainly was not going to be a boring trip.

* * *

_Iston i n__í__vedh – _I know your face

_Ni thelidh – _do you mean me

_Missel – _wandering girl

**A/N: **Wow, so many nods in this chapter, I think everybody nodded at least once.

Before you ask why Thranduil didn't go after her, I'm going to say that he had no idea where she had gone. For all he knew, she might have returned to Rivendell. Though I admit, I was at a crossroads on this subject, at the last moment I decided to write it like this.

Of course, I appreciate your opinions on this subject and about the story overall.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: **Have a pleasant Monday, everyone!

About updating in the summer I can't really tell you anything, especially the second half of it since I'll be away most of the time. But I'll try to write as much as I can in June and we'll see how it goes.

But for now, the new chapter is here.

Enjoy!

* * *

The sun was high in the sky and a covered wagon pulled by two horses rolled down the North-South Road. There was absolutely nothing peculiar about this wagon. It was such an ordinary wagon that a random passer-by wouldn't even remember seeing it if somebody asked.

But the travelers on that wagon were nothing like the ordinary. Two men were sitting at the front, one of them, slightly taller than the other, holding reins and the other talking to him in silent voice. From afar they looked like common Men, but on a closer inspection, one could notice their slightly pointed ears and sharp facial features. Behind them, if one looked even closer, one could see a hooded figure. The figure's cloak was almost indistinguishable from the wagon's cover and the hood had been drawn over the face of the person inside, so that if one managed to see the hooded figure, one still couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman. One couldn't even tell if it was a Man or a dwarf for that matter. Probably the only peculiar thing about this wagon was that there was a saddled horse walking next to it, tied to the wagon by a rope.

Namiriel sighed. It was already the eleventh passer-by they saw today. It was one of the most frequently used roads in Middle-Earth, leading from Mithlond and Fornost (the capital of Arnor) to Tharbad and from there to Rohan. If she had ridden down this road alone, many people would have certainly seen her and some of them also might have recognized her face. But in the shade of the wagon most travelers didn't even notice her. It was a perfect way to travel inconspicuously.

They had been on the road for several days already, but Namiriel had had little chance to get to know her companions. Not because they didn't talk, on the contrary, they were rarely quiet. In the last days they had covered most of the subjects from dwarven poetry to the ships of the Dúnedain, but they weren't very keen on speaking about themselves. Not that she minded, she hadn't spoken much about herself either.

"I think we should take a break, turn to that road over there," Curunir said, pointing towards a narrow road into the forest.

Eriston nodded and the wagon slowed down. They turned to an old forest road that very rarely seen any use and rode down it until they reached a small opening on the bank of a river.

"The river Baranduin," Eriston said. He stopped the horses and jumped off the wagon. Then he reached into the carriage to take a pot and a bag, the horses meanwhile began cheerfully chewing the grass. Curunir had grabbed his bow and disappeared into the woods. Namiriel felt at loss for a moment, but then took off her hood and went to help Eriston.

When Namiriel and Eriston had filled the pot with herbs and vegetables, Curunir reappeared, holding a freshly caught rabbit and some dry tree branches. As he got the fire started, Eriston skinned the rabbit and chopped it into the pot while Namiriel added some herbs to it.

"I say let us call it a day," Curunir said, lying down on the grass as they waited for the stew to boil.

"How many more days shall our journey last?" Namiriel asked.

"We should arrive in nine days if all goes well," Curunir answered.

Eriston nodded and adjusted the pot on the fire.

"I saw some very fine shooting back in Tharbad," Curunir stated.

"Thank you," she said.

"I consider myself a good bowman as well. What do you think about a small competition after the dinner?"

Namiriel considered the proposal for a moment and then answered: "I suppose some practice cannot hurt."

"Wonderful!" Curunir exclaimed. Eriston looked at his friend, slightly raising his eyebrow, but then took the pot off the fire and handed everyone a small wooden bowl, filling it with the stew.

"I didn't know you could cook so well, my friend," Curunir said, taking a bite.

"I think it's Missel who really deserves your praise," Eriston answered, glancing at Namiriel.

Namiriel laughed. "I appreciate it, Eriston, but my cooking skill is barely worth mentioning."

"Well, I think the stew is delicious," Curunir stated, emptying his bowl. He stood up. "But now, let us see who the better archer is."

"Let her finish the dinner first," Eriston stated.

"It is all right, I am already finished," Namiriel said and also stood up. She grabbed her bow from the wagon and took off her cloak. Then Namiriel and Curunir stood side-by-side in the middle of the opening.

Eriston came with some wooden discs and remained standing near them.

"Ladies first," Curunir said and gestured at Namiriel. She drew the bow and remained waiting. Eriston threw one of the discs up into the air. It swirled around and Namiriel carefully aimed. As the disc was falling downwards, she released the arrow and hit it right in the middle. Curunir nodded approvingly and took his station. Eriston threw another disc. Curunir's arrow flew through the air and also hit the target.

"Make it a bit harder, will you?" Curunir said, laughing. Eriston smirked and threw another disc, but this time, instead of throwing it upwards, he threw it over the river away from them. Namiriel had to shoot quickly. She instinctively released her arrow without taking too much time to aim and she was relieved when it hit the disc. Curunir frowned slightly, but drew his bow. As Eriston threw the disc he released his arrow. It flew through the air, but only hit the edge of its target, breaking a small piece off it.

"There must have been a wind gust," he stated.

"Nevertheless, we have determined the winner," Eriston said.

"Yes, I am glad to have had the chance to meet such a fine archer as you," Curunir told, smiling.

"And I am glad to have met you two, I wouldn't have gotten so far without you," she answered.

"Surely you would have," Curunir said.

"But we still have a long way to go," his friend stated.

The following days were still fairly warm, although the signs of coming autumn could already be seen. The birds didn't sing as often as before and the warm summer breeze had been replaced by a cool autumn wind. After they had crossed the river Baranduin, they saw less and less people every day. Most of the travelers had turned before the river towards the village of Bree and the city of Fornost. The company continued over the Sarn Ford and down the North-South Road to the White Downs. Then they turned west towards the Tower Hills.

The road over the White Downs was narrow and lonely. They barely saw one traveler per day and on some days, they didn't see anyone. Namiriel had quit wearing the hood since she could always pull it over her head when she heard someone approaching. The days were all very alike and there wasn't much to see on either side of the road.

To Curunir's question about the time of their arrival Eriston answered: "We are nearing the Tower Hills, no more than a two days' ride from here."

"Two days seems tediously long, in my opinion," Curunir said and disappeared into the interior of the wagon. Namiriel peeked in to see what he was doing. He opened a bag, poked around in it for a while and then pulled out something long and wooden – a flute. He then returned to his usual seat and said: "I thought I would make the time pass faster."

"You can't speed up time, no matter how hard you try, though you can make it seem to go faster," Eriston stated.

" It's all the same to me," Curunir said and began playing a cheerful tune.

"My brother plays the flute, you know," Namiriel said. It was the first time she brought up her family in a conversation.

"Oh, does he?" Curunir asked. "But can he play this?" He began a faster and more playful tune with many swirls.

"I think he can, I have even heard him play this," Namiriel said laughingly.

"Then what about this?" He began another tune that started slow and silent, but then grew richer and stronger.

"It is a wonderful tune," she told and began swinging in its rhythm.

"Curunir, don't show off," Eriston uttered.

"No, it is fine, I enjoy listening to your play," Namiriel said. Eriston frowned slightly, but he couldn't help swinging with the music as well. The journey suddenly didn't feel so long.

Suddenly Eriston stopped the wagon.

"What is it?" Curunir asked, taking the flute from his lips.

Eriston listened the surroundings for a moment and they all began to hear a low and distant snarl.

" Wargs," he said and made the horses rush forward in a gallop. Namiriel reached into the wagon, handed Curunir his bow and also grabbed hers. She set an arrow ready and remained waiting. The snarling was approaching and Eriston hustled the horses forward.

Then she suddenly no longer heard the wargs.

"I think we lost them!" She shouted to her companions. Eriston's face was stern and Curunir also had an arrow ready.

"No, they're upon us," Eriston said as there was a loud howl and a huge wolf jumped out of the bushes onto one of the horses, its teeth ripping into it's sides. The horse stopped and neighed in pain, as it desperately tried to shake of the warg. The wagon tilted dangerously to its side as the other horse tried to keep running and for a moment it seemed like it was going to keel over. Curunir steadied his bow and shot the arrow through the warg's head.

Another wolf jumped onto the wagon's cover, ripping it in shreds and landing behind Namiriel. She took an arrow and stabbed the warg with it before rolling off the carriage onto the ground. The arrow sticking out of its chest didn't stop the warg from charging at Eriston who threw aside his cloak, revealing two slightly curved blades, and sliced off the wolf's head. But more were coming. Namiriel could see at least a dozen more wargs and she began shooting her arrows. One fell. Two. But they were already getting closer. Curunir joined her by her side, but there was a hint of hopelessness in his eyes.

"_Boe i'waeg_!" Eriston shouted.

"No, I cannot leave you here!" Namiriel responded to him, shooting down another warg.

" We will deal with the wargs. GO!" Curunir shouted. Namiriel shook her head, but Eriston cut the rope binding Súletál to the wagon and handed her his reins.

"Namiriel, you must go. We'll follow you soon," he said and almost pushed her onto her horse. She felt tears falling from her eyes, but spurred her horse to a fast gallop.

The sounds of battle fell behind her, but the howling of the wargs was stuck in her head until she reached the gates of Mithlond several hours later.

The gates into the city were open, but as soon as she entered, the guards surrounded her and brought her horse to a halt. They gestured her to dismount to which she silently complied.

"Who are you and what business have you here?" one of the guards asked her, probably their captain.

"_Sevidh dhaw an gwad,_" a authoritarian voice behind him said and the guards pulled back, letting an old elf pass through.

"Círdan!" Namiriel exclaimed and ran to the elf, hugging him tightly.

"Ah, Tithenil. What strange winds have brought you here? And what ill fate has fallen upon your company?"

"I travelled in the company of two of your traders, Curunir and Eriston. A pack of wargs ambushed us in the mountains for we went overly northwards," she explained. "Please, you must help them, they may still be alive!"

"Curunir and Eriston you say?" Círdan asked dubiously.

"Yes, without them I wouldn't have got here."

"I know no traders named Curunir and Eriston in Mithlond nor somewhere else," Círdan said.

"What do you mean?" Namiriel asked, unable to believe his words.

"That they very likely hid themselves under false names. But if they helped you then I cannot leave them to such fates," Cirdan told and turned to the guard captain. "Gather a party and venture east. Find two travelers and, if possible, bring them back alive."

The guard captain nodded and was just leaving when he saw a horse stopping in front of the gates and two figures climbing off. "_Daro! Man de?_" he shouted out to them.

The figures walked through the city gates and Namiriel and Círdan now noticed them as well. One of them was leaning heavily on the other, it seemed like his leg was broken. Their clothes were slightly torn in placed as if they had fought a pack of wolves and suddenly Namiriel recognized them.

_Elladan?_

_Elrohir?_

_Brothers?_

* * *

_Boe i'waeg – _You must leave

_Sevidh dhaw an gwad –_ You may go

_Daro! Man de? – _Stop! Who are you?


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: **Okay, I'm a bit late with this chapter, but as the saying goes: better late than never.

Enjoy!

* * *

Namiriel pushed through the guards surrounding her and ran across the courtyard to the two men.

"Sister!" Elladan – the man leaning on his brother's shoulder – exclaimed as she stopped in front of them, a startled look on her face. "I am so glad you are well!" Elrohir added.

Namiriel gently laid her palms on Elladan's cheeks and looked at him as if trying to see if he was real. She then touched Elrohir's face as well. "Brothers… but how?" she whispered, mainly to herself. But then shook her head – she could find that out later, right now there were more immediate concerns. She called out to the guards: "Quickly! Take them to the healing room."

The head of the guards nodded in acknowledgement and gestured three men to help the arrivals. Elladan leaned heavily upon them and they half-lead half-carried him into the castle. His brother was also taken inside despite his attempts to convince them he was unhurt.

Círdan walked to Namiriel and laid his hand on her shoulder. She was shaking ever so slightly in silent sobs. He pulled her closer in his arms and she gently laid her head on his shoulder.

"Círdan, why does everyone around me have to get hurt?"

He didn't answer. "You must rest, Tithenil," he finally said, letting her go from his arms. He guided her into the castle and up many stairs to one of the quest rooms.

"Thank you," Namiriel said and lay down on the bed. She fell asleep almost instantly.

Namiriel woke up late the next day. The light of the sun had filled her room as she opened her eyes. Sitting up in her bed she realized she had fallen asleep fully clothed, so she slipped out of her dress and put on a simple dressing gown. She moved slowly, almost unconsciously, out of her room and towards the baths. Only now she was beginning to fully understand yesterday's events. _I am home. For so long have I feared to come back here. I have tried to forget this place… forget my origin. Maybe it has all been a pointless struggle…_

When she returned to her room, the bed had been made and a new clean gown lay on it. She got dressed and looked out of the window. The view opened to the courtyard of the castle where some guards were standing and talking by an open gate. _Why hadn't C__í__rdan brought me to my own room, but instead had given me a quest room?_ _Had he thought it would be too much for me to handle?_

She went out of the room and noticed Círdan standing in the hallway.

"_No vaer i aur_, Namiriel. Did you sleep well?" he asked.

"Quite well, thank you," Namiriel said.

"Come, Elrohir is waiting for us." They began walking down the hallway. It was just as Namiriel remembered it. Walls and floors of smooth grey stone, many arched windows lighting the hallway, long staircases with worn steps and ivy climbing up the castle's walls.

She knew this place. She knew every corner, every step and every stone. She could remember herself running down these halls, towards the meeting room where her father was discussing important matters with his army commanders. She would push open the heavy wooden doors and run to her father, crying about hurting her finger. And he would pick her up, gently kiss her finger and tell her it was going to be all right. And suddenly the finger would not hurt so much anymore. Then her governess would come running into the room, apologizing about the disturbance and take Namiriel from her father's hands, scolding her a little about running away. But she knew that Namiriel wouldn't listen to her, and she was glad she didn't, for she didn't want to keep a child from seeing her father. And later she would tell her stories about times long past. It was all so long ago, but Namiriel still remembered those stories.

They stopped in front of large wooden doors and Círdan gestured her to enter. Namiriel's hand lingered on the doorknob. The last time she had entered this room, her father had been standing by the large round stone table and his officers sitting on the chairs around it. She slowly pushed the door. It was lighter than she remembered. The door slid open, but this time there were no people there to look at her with surprise. Empty chairs stood around the table and from the high windows rays of light flooded the room. Everyone that had once sat on these chairs discussing important military tactics had departed to the Halls of Mandos by now. Everyone except Círdan.

They walked across the floor and entered a smaller room adjacent to the main meeting chamber. A rectangular table stood by a window and several bookcases were by the walls. Another door led out of this chamber into a smaller hallway.

Elrohir sat by the table reading a book.

"Good morning, sister," he said closing the book.

"Good morning, Elrohir," Namiriel answered. "Or should I say Eriston?"

Elrohir smiled. "I apologize for the deception, but it was the only way to keep you safe."

"By lying to me ?"

"You would have never agreed to travel with us if you knew we were your brothers," he stated.

"And for a reason," she said. "You could have got killed!"

"But we did not, we are alive and well," Elrohir said calmly. "And so are you."

Namiriel sat down behind the table. She couldn't really be angry with her brothers right now. In a way she was actually grateful to them. "Yes. I am glad it didn't end badly," Namiriel finally answered. "How is Elladan?"

"They expect his injuries to fully heal. I believe he will soon be able to walk," Círdan said, also taking seat.

"It is good to hear."

Cirdan nodded and for a while there was silence between them.

"But how did you do it? How did you change your appearance to people?" Namiriel asked, unable to suppress her curiosity.

"Not to all people. Only to you," Elrohir said. "You saw us as Eriston and Curunir, everyone else still saw us as we are."

"But during the battle the spell failed," Elladan said, pushing open the door and entering the room. He was leaning on a crutch and his leg was covered with bandages. "That is part of the reason we sent you away, other than to protect you."

"Elladan! You should be in bed!" Namiriel exclaimed.

"You know I am unable to stay in one place for long." He laughed.

"But this time, brother, you really should rest," Elrohir said and walked beside Elladan. "I shall help you get back to your room."

Elladan frowned, but a sudden pang in his leg reminded him that his brother was right. He let Elrohir open the door for him and together they left the room.

Círdan and Namiriel decided to take a stroll out of the castle. They went on a walk along a wide paved path on the edge of a cliff – the castle had been built partly inside a mountain. The waves of the sea rustled below them and salty air filled Namiriel's lungs. She leaned over the railing enjoying the cool wind blowing through her hair.

"I have missed that, Círdan," she said.

"The smell of the sea?"

She laughed. "That too, but really I have missed the feeling of home, the feeling of belonging."

"Those that have felt the call of the sea and seen its waves can never forget it," he answered.

"I cannot imagine what it has been like for you to live here. Every once in a while another ship leaves those shores, never to return again," she spoke dreamily. "Do you ever wish you could go as well?"

"I am needed here. It is my duty to build those ships for those who wish to leave, so they could reach the Undying Lands. I shall not leave these shores until the last ship departs for this journey," Círdan answered. "But if you wish to go, I can have a ship set ready for you."

"As much as I would like that, it is not yet my time to leave," Namiriel said.

"I thought you would say that. You still have a long life ahead of you." He turned to look at her. "You have lived most of your life in a time of peace and have not seen the face of evil. That is why I wish to protect you, so you should never have to face your own death."

Namiriel remained quiet, her eyes as blue as the sea in the setting sun, looking at the horizon.

"I wanted to give you this." He opened his hand revealing a golden ring with a blood-red stone. "This is Narya, the ring of fire. It belonged to your father and I believe he would have wanted me to give it to you."

Namiriel looked at the ring. It was beautiful. The red stone glimmered in the sun like a flame and the golden ring was richly covered with ornaments. She was about to take it from his open hand when a swirl of images overwhelmed her mind. Her hand froze in place as she looked absently at Círdan for several moments.

"Namiriel, are you well?" he asked as she seemed to regain her consciousness.

"I cannot accept it. Although the ring may one day save me from my fate, it is not mine to take." She closed her eyes, concentrating on the images she had seen and slowly spoke: "Five _Istari_ will sail here from over the sea. The ring must be given to the greatest and wisest of them, for it may decide the fate of all."

"How do you know this?" Círdan asked.

"I… I do not know. I feel I must rest," she said, opening her eyes. "Good night." She began walking back towards the castle.

* * *

_No vaer i aur _– Good morning

**A/N: **The Halls of Mandos is a place where all elves go after they die.

Also, I was rereading previous chapters and realized I had mixed up the correct forms of lay and lie and their past tenses. In the 11th chapter, where Namiriel stabbed that man, there was a sentence "He lied on the floor…" Obviously I didn't mean him to lie to that floor about anything, but instead I meant that he was lying on the floor. So, I fixed that now and apologize for any confusion. If you happen to find other mistakes, I'd be grateful if you brought them to my attention. That way I can fix them and also learn some English on the way.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: **Hi again, everyone!

So, this will be a fairly long chapter, because I wanted to finish up with the Mithlond storyline.

Enjoy!

* * *

Namiriel spent the next morning wandering around in the castle. Many things had changed since she last walked those halls. First of all, the people weren't as busy as she remembered. If the guards were at their posts, they usually sat idly, chatting with their comrades or playing some game of chance. Namiriel also noticed that many of the castle's walls were completely unguarded, especially those near the sea, as it was most improbable that something could pose threat to the city from that direction. She initially believed that the lack of guards was because of the peaceful times in these lands – the wargs that attacked her and her brothers were the first to be seen in almost three dozen years – but as she continued her walk, she soon realized it was because Mithlond's population had rapidly diminished. She figured that there were at most fifty guards on duty at the same time, whereas in her childhood the number had been greatly over two hundred.

Another thing Namiriel noticed was that there were quite few people walking around the castle. Even near kitchens, where the bustle was usually the most intense, she could see only a few elves going about and even they didn't seem to be in a hurry. She didn't mind being alone, one the contrary, she quite enjoyed it, but she had got so used to the constant hustle in Imladris that the castle of Mithlond seemed almost empty compared to it. Even more so, when she reached the less used parts of the castle. There the halls hadn't been cleaned for a while and there was dust on the windowsills. The air was slightly fusty – nobody had opened the windows for a long time. She still remembered when many elves lived in these rooms and walked those hallways. But now it seemed so desolate, even ghastly. Namiriel shivered her shoulders and walked back into the more commonly used hallways.

In her great surprise, Namiriel found herself in front of the large doors of the throne hall. The oaken doors were high, richly decorated with ornaments and forgings, and – Namiriel pulled the handle – locked. _Why are these doors locked? _They had always been open so that those in need could seek the counsel of the king. The king, who was always there for his people. But Lindon had no king, not anymore. That's why the doors were locked. Namiriel walked further down the hallway and entered a smaller wooden door that led into one of the smaller rooms adjacent to the throne hall. This one in particular was the office of the king's advisor. The room was simple. There was a large window, a bookcase and a desk with many papers piled on it. Namiriel walked through the office and tried the door on the opposite side of the room – it was unlocked. She opened the door and entered the throne hall.

The room was smaller than she remembered, but still huge. There were two rows of columns in the room, forming vaults high under the ceiling. On the floor there was a long dark blue carpet. Large stained glass windows were at the end of the room, casting colorful spots of light on the floor as light streamed through them. And there, under the large windows, stood a throne of stone. The king's throne. And indeed it was a throne worthy of the king of all Elves of Middle-Earth. Exquisite carvings covered its armrests and back. The seat was covered with a velvety dark blue cloth, similar to the tone of the carpet. And in the upper part of the throne beautiful jewels embellished it like a crown of stars above the sitter's head.

She slowly walked closer to the throne admiring it from every angle. Though this throne had stood here for thousands of years, she rarely remembered seeing her father sit on it. Maybe he had, in the earlier times, but the man Namiriel knew almost never had the time to sit down, even for a short while. He had rarely even had the time for her and when he had said goodbye to her in Imladris, he had told her it was the thing he regretted most: not being able to spend time with his only daughter. And then he had promised her, that when the war was over, he would return to her and they would go on a journey together and he would take her to see all the marvelous places of Arda and show her all the wonders this world could offer. She remembered his father's words as if he had spoken them yesterday. Once again she felt tears in her eyes as she recalled that memory. The war was over. It had been over for centuries, but Gl-galad had never returned. No matter how long she waited, looking east through the window in her room in Imladris, it changed nothing. Her father was dead. The horrible truth Elrond had revealed her upon his arrival in Imladris. Her father was dead and there was nothing she could do to change this. At first, she of course did not want to believe him. She kept waiting, looking through the window every day, hoping to see a familiar figure coming down the road. But years passed, and no one came. With every passing day her hope began to dwindle and with each passing year she went to the window less often. By now, she almost never went there, but seeing his empty throne made her realize, how much she really missed her father.

She walked closer to the throne, gently touching it with her fingertips. Slowly she slid her hand over the soft cloth and the carvings on the armrest, stopping to touch each detail. Then Namiriel hesitantly sat on the throne. It was too wide for her slim body, but it felt quite comfortable.

"Trying out the chair, I see," a voice said behind her. Namiriel quickly stood up and turned towards the speaker.

Elrohir smiled and continued: "You could be the queen of all _Eldar_. Beautiful and strong; fair and wise, but fearsome in your wrath. People would call you _Gilrin_ – Lady Crowned With Stars."

"But I cannot claim the king's throne," Namiriel answered.

"Of course you could, if you only wanted to. You are Gil-galad's only heir. I do not think anyone would dare to challenge your claim on the throne."

"That may be so, but still I do not wish to rule. I have never wanted this throne, nor will I ever accept it, if offered. Ereinion Gil-galad was the last High King of the Elves of the West and his line died with him. That is how the history books remember it and that is, as far as anyone knows, the truth."

"A handful of people would disagree with you."

"But this handful of people would never speak of it!" Namiriel snapped and walked past her brother. She stopped near the door and sighed. "How did you find me here?"

"Oh, my dear sister, I can always find you," he answered with a sweet smile.

"You did not answer my question."

"Do you mean how did I and Elladan find you or how did I know you were here, in the throne room?"

"Both," Namiriel said shortly, looking once again at Elrohir.

"To be honest, you can thank mother for that. Back in Imladris, even before you decided to leave Lothlórien, she had a moment of… foresight. As she told us, she saw you hastily leaving the golden forest and later you were sitting on this throne, just as you were a moment ago. This is how she knew you were heading here and so she sent us to help you on your journey. She was also the one to suggest the use of glamour charms to hide our real identities."

"So she knew I was here all along." That was, in a way, a relief. She hadn't wished to worry Elrond and Celebrían when she left, but there was no way she could have left a note for them, saying where she was. Círdan had most likely also sent a messenger to Imladris, telling about her safe arrival, but it would take at least two weeks for the messengers to arrive. And if Celebrían knew, then probably so would Galadriel. "But still, how did you know to look for me in the throne hall right now?"

"Well, to be honest, I had been looking for you for over half an hour before I came here." He laughed. "You had to be somewhere in the castle. Besides, I had a message to deliver. I almost forgot that during our little chat."

"So are you going to deliver it?" Namiriel asked.

"Of course." He cleared his throat as if he was going to say something of high importance. "There is an old… friend waiting for you. She told me you could find her in your chambers."

Namiriel slightly raised her eyebrows in surprise. "I do not have any old friends."

"Well, that is how she described herself. I think you better go and see who it is," Elrohir said. Namiriel nodded and left the room.

She went to her quarters. There was no one there. Maybe the person waiting for her had already left. Or maybe…

Namiriel hurried up the stairs towards her room where she had lived as a child. If that person had said that she waited for her in her chambers, then she obviously hadn't meant the quest bedroom Namiriel had been given. No, she was in _her_ chambers.

The door was slightly open and Namiriel stood beside it. Then she took a deep breath and knocked three times on the door. A woman's voice in the room asked her to enter.

Her room looked exactly how she remembered it. It was almost like time had stopped there. On the walls there were paintings of the landscape: high mountains with deep blue lakes between them, green meadows and thick forests. The room had two windows: one to the west and the other one to the east. The sun shining through the window made the pictures come alive in the morning and enwrapped them in red-golden glow in the evening. Her bed was on the left of the door, by the window to the west, and covered with a light blue bedspread with silver fringes. By it was a nightstand with two candles on it. Near the wall opposite of the door stood a high wardrobe with decorated wooden doors and beside it a tall mirror. On the right there was a wooden chest, a small table with a few books on it and an armchair by the window.

The woman was sitting in the armchair and looking out of the window. Namiriel noticed her immediately as soon as she entered, but didn't recognize her at first. She had long dark hair, and a kind face. She looked older than Namiriel, maybe around forty in the years of Men.

"_Dhe suilon, Ereiniel. gwannas l__û and,_" she said, turning towards her. And only then Namiriel recognized her.

"Miluwien!" she exclaimed and hugged the woman. "So you are the old friend Elrohir spoke of?"

She laughed. "Yes, I would like to believe I am still your friend."

"But of course you are! Oh, I am so glad to see you again!" Namiriel sat on the windowsill and continued: "I thought you left over the sea."

"I admit it was my plan for a long time, but after learned about your father's death, I knew I had to stay here for you, for I knew that one day you would return to your birthplace."

"Why didn't you visit me in Imladris?"

She smiled a bit dolefully. "Many times I wanted to do so, but each time I realized my visit would force you to relive memories of your past. I did not wish to force them upon you, so I stayed away." She paused for a moment. "But such a long time has passed. Last I saw you, you were just a little girl whom I told stories of old times. Tell me, Ereiniel, what has happened since?"

"Please, do not call me Ereiniel, for this name has been long buried and forgotten. I am now called Namiriel, daughter of Elrond."

She nodded slightly.

"I have stayed in Imladris for the most part, filling my days with reading and riding in the woods," Namiriel spoke.

"So what brought you here? As I have heard you left in a hurry, not telling anyone of your destination."

"I wanted to get away. These last months have been restless for me." She leaned against the wall and continued: "There is a man, Thannor is his name."

"He asked you to marry him?" Miluwien asked, understanding her line of thought.

"He did not voice it exactly as such, but I could see that it was what he meant."

"What did you tell him?"

"Nothing. I ran away… a stupid thing to do," Namiriel said, looking out of the window. "In a way, I was tempted to take his offer and live with him until the end of days humbly and peacefully."

"Then why did you not accept his offer?" Miluwien asked, though she could already guess the answer.

"Because I do not love him and I know I could never see him as anything more than a friend." She slowly continued: "My heart belongs to someone else."

"And does this person care about you as well?"

"I do not know… Thranduil kissed me in Lórien, but then, a moment later, he said he did not mean it. Nevertheless I have not stopped thinking about him ever since. Never have I felt like this towards anyone."

"Thranduil?" Miluwien asked with a hint of disbelief in her voice. "You would not be the first to fall for his charm. Many have tried to gain his favor, but so far none have succeeded."

"Except Elanor," Namiriel stated.

"Yes. Except her. He told you about her?" Namiriel nodded, so she continued: "Pretty little thing she was. Kind and gentle. Too bad it had to end like this."

"How do you know so much about him?"

"I lived for a while in the Halls of the Woodland Realm. Back when Oropher was still alive. He was a good friend of mine, but his son… I never really understood him. Elanor's death affected him heavily. He became silent and distant after that, as if he could never love anyone again. It could be that he found in you someone he could talk to, someone he could trust. Maybe he does not want anything else out of it."

"So I should not raise my hopes?" Namiriel asked. She had considered the possibility of rejection before, but before now it hadn't seemed so real.

"Hope is a good thing, but it hurts when it shatters."

"Then what should I do? "

"There are only two things you _can_ do. You can either ignore your feelings or you can confess them. Both of them can seem tempting, the second one might just need a bit more courage. Whichever you choose to do, just do not let him play around with you."

Namiriel remained silent and thoughtful. The sun was setting and the room was filled with red-golden light.

"You do not need to decide right now. You can take as long as you need – no-one will trouble you here. I promise," Miluwien said and gently kissed her forehead.

"Thank you, you have been a great help," Namiriel answered. Her former governess smiled and closed the door as she left.

* * *

_Dhe suilon, Ereiniel. Gwannas l__û and –_ I give greetings to you, Ereiniel. It has been too long.

**A/N: **Ereiniel is a modification from the name Ereinion, the name Gil-galad was also known by.

To those who don't like reading descriptions, I apologize. It is just one of those things that I want to practice more, so I won't hold myself back whenever I feel like describing something.

An explanation of elven names:  
An Elf has three names. The first name is called the Father name. That is given to the Elf upon birth and is usually a variation of his/her mother's or father's name. The second name is called the Mother name. It is given to the elf by his/her mother and describes his/her personality. The third name is called Epessë and is also known as the chosen name. It is either chosen by the Elf his/herself or given to him/her for something he/she is well-known for. There can be more than one Epessë.

For example: Her Father name is Artanis, her Mother name is Nerwen and her Epessë is Alatáriel, the Quenya form of Galadriel, by which everyone knows her.

And with Namiriel: her Father name is Ereiniel, Mother name is unknown (so far) and Epessë is Namiriel.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: **Yay! The fifteenth chapter. I never thought I'd get this far. Truthfully I was barely able to finish this in time, I didn't think I'd make it with this week's uploading. But, as you can see, I actually made it.

So enjoy!

* * *

She was sitting in the library, on the windowsill, and reading a book. Just a few months ago had she returned to Imladris after her long stay in Mithlond. It was late spring. Over twenty years had passed since the New Year's party, though this time had seemed like a blink of an eye.

Truthfully, she was glad to get back here. Although Mithlond was the place of her birth that would always remain a home for her, Imladris had become kind of a second home for her, where she could always find good counsel and time for herself. Now it seemed almost unbelievable that she had once wanted to escape from here. But that was exactly what had happened, the reason why she had gone to Lothlórien and, after that, to Mithlond, where she had stayed much longer than she had initially planned. Nevertheless, she had made good use of her stay in Mithlond. She had one-by-one visited every room of the castle, awakening her old memories she had suppressed for so long. And one-by-one she had made them part of who she was, to cherish and find strength in them. She wondered why she hadn't gone there earlier. Maybe it was because earlier she didn't have the reason to leave Imladris. But in the end, it was her decision to return that really mattered.

Galadriel had meanwhile also come to Imladris, and, of course, Thannor had joined her. They had spoken briefly several times, but neither of them had mentioned their last chat in Lothlórien. Namiriel's mind drifted off the book as she thought about what he might be doing at the moment. Although Thannor often looked her up, Namiriel tried to keep their interactions to a minimum. _It is better for both of us,_ she thought, but she often missed the elf's humor and their lively conversations. Still, it was fairly apparent that Thannor hadn't given up hope about Namiriel someday, somehow answering his feelings and deciding to stay with him. She, however, wasn't so sure about that.

The library was one of those few places where Thannor did not know to search for her and it had become a sort of safe haven. That for one, and she also loved to read. The library in Imladris was vast, containing books from as early as the First Age. It would take years to even begin grasping its contents. And though during the time Namiriel had lived in Imladris she had gained a pretty good overview of the books stored in the library, she had read barely a percent of them.

Anyways, she was sitting on the windowsill and reading a book. Well, not reading, more like skimming it, because she didn't really feel like reading today. Warm sun shone through the window, caressing her face as she looked out into the valley. The beeches and oaks were full of leaves and the air was filled of the freshness of spring and the scent of pine trees. And then, enjoying the freshness of spring, she suddenly saw a small company approaching. They galloped down the steep road in a single file towards the castle. As they got closer, she noticed that the leader of the group carried a green banner of the Woodland Realm. Namiriel wasn't aware of any guests arriving today and she was sure Elrond would have apprised her, if he had known about it. She fixed her eyes on the window and tried to get a closer look at the company. Thranduil was with them, for sure, though it wasn't like him to travel with so few companions. Namiriel watched them until they entered the courtyard of the castle and disappeared from her field of view. She wondered if she should go downstairs to greet the new arrivals, but then decided to restrain her curiosity. Besides, they were most likely here to see Elrond and she could hear all about it from him later on. For now she leaned back against the wall and turned her attention to the book.

It was already evening, when Namiriel finally thought of laying down the book and going out to see what everyone was doing. The sun was disappearing behind the horizon and filling the room with a red glow. As she was getting up from her comfortable spot, someone opened the library door. Which, by itself, wouldn't have been very alarming, if it hadn't been for the fact that no one had visited the library the entire day. She peeked between the bookshelves towards the door and stopped with the book in her hand as she saw who it was. No, it couldn't have been. What was _he_ doing _here_?

Thranduil looked around in the library. There were many high bookshelves in the room, filled with books from top to bottom. The room was well-lit and a desk stood by the nearest window. When he had asked for Namiriel's location, Elrond had stated that she often spends time in here. Thranduil could very well see the charm this place had. The windows overlooked the valley and the narrow road between the mountains. From here one could see everyone coming to the castle. Thus, Thranduil deemed it possible that Namiriel had seen him arriving and already left the library. He stepped between the shelves and gently skimmed with his fingers over the backs of the books. They were old. Many of them had been rewritten dozens of times and several of them he remembered from his childhood. Suddenly he heard a silent thump, as if the heel of a shoe hit the floor. This, of course, was the case. He walked further in the direction of the noise and caught the glimpse of a creamy-colored dress.

"Namiriel!" he exclaimed, appearing behind the woman from between the bookcases.

"Thranduil! I apologize, I had no idea you were here," Namiriel said, looking seemingly startled. She blushed slightly, but continued: "Is there something I can help you with?"

He seemed thoughtful for a moment before answering: "As a matter of fact there is. Do you know where I could find the song of Beren and Lúthien?"

Namiriel looked at the book in her hands and smiled. "I believe this is what you're searching for." She held the book out to him.

"If you were reading it, then you need not give it away," he answered. "I can study it some other time."

"No, it is fine, really," she smiled encouragingly and gestured him to take the book. Thranduil hesitantly took it from her hands, gently sliding his fingers over hers. Namiriel felt a slight shiver run up from her hands as she let go of the book.

"Thank you," he said and turned to leave.

_Wait, he was going to go? Just like that?_

_No… No! NO!_

_Not this time._

She grabbed his hand, pulling him back towards her, and, without giving it a second thought, kissed him. Thranduil dropped the book in surprise, but he quickly overcame it and wrapped his hands around Namiriel's waist, pulling her closer. He kissed her gently and carefully, as if expecting her to push him away any moment. But she didn't. She deepened the kiss and slid her hands up his chest, tangling them into his hair. As he realized she was not going to tear herself away, he slowly let down his guard and let himself enjoy her embrace and her lips, soft and sweet as honey upon his.

Namiriel slowly pulled herself away from him, trying to catch her breath. As she opened her eyes, she saw him standing closer than ever before. His oval face, dark eyebrows and graceful lips, slightly curved in a gentle smile. With her whole body she could feel his presence, his scent affecting her like a drug. He tenderly cupped her face between his hands, his grey eyes fixed on her.

"For twenty-three years I have dreamt of you, Namiriel," he whispered. "It was like a torture to me."

"If that is so, then why didn't you try to find me?" she asked, forcing herself to let go of him and walking to the window.

"Did you expect me to drop everything and ride off into the blue?" He slightly raised his voice. "I did not know where you had gone or if you even wanted to see me after what happened by the lake."

"Do you really think I left because of you?" She laughed bitterly.

"Then why did you leave? For years I received no word of you. I had no idea if you were alive or dead!"

"I left for the same reason you left me by that lake," she answered, looking into the distance. "I was unsure if I was making the right choices."

"And what about now?"

"Now I know what I want." She turned back towards Thranduil. "I made peace with my past."

* * *

**A/N: **I rewrote the end for at least seven times and I'm still not quite fine with it. But it's certainly better than it was in the beginning.

Thank you so much for the reviews, favorites and follows. I very much appreciate your feedback and support!


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: **My Monday-Tuesday updating has become more like Saturday-Sunday updating, but well, I'm trying. For the next month or so I'll be in summer camp, so I don't know if I'm able to update it then, but I will try to keep up.

Anyways, another chapter is here. Enjoy!

* * *

Namiriel walked down a castle's hallway. It was high and wide, like all other hallways in the castle. Its one wall was covered with tall arched windows overlooking the valley of Imladris. With clear weather the sun would shine in through the windows and draw exquisite images on the hallway floor, making it gleam brightly. But sadly today was not a sunny day. The sky was covered with thick clouds, the air was damp and there was no breeze to be felt. All the omens pointed to the fact that it was going to rain. She walked quickly towards the gardens with a book in her hands, hoping that the person she was looking for hadn't already left.

As she entered the gardens, she noticed him immediately. Thranduil was talking to a member of his company, but quickly ended the conversation as he saw Namiriel approaching, sending the elf away with a simple gesture. He waited her to get closer and slightly raised his eyebrow in a wordless question.

She waved the book in her hands and said: "I apologize for my interruption, but as you left the library last night, you forgot to take the book. I thought I would bring it to you."

"I did not forget it, I simply had no need to take it," he answered matter-of-factly.

"But you did come to the library because of it," Namiriel stated, though it sounded more like a question.

"_The leaves were long, the grass was green, the hemlock-umbels tall and fair,_" he spoke the beginning of the song. "I do not need a book for something I can recite by heart."

"Then why did you ask for it?" Namiriel enquired, seemingly confused.

"Because it happened to be the book you were reading."

Namiriel thought about his answer for a moment and then said: "So it was no accident that we met in the library last night?"

"No, it wasn't," he said. There was a short moment of silence before he continued: "I hoped you hadn't returned to Imladris when I decided to undertake this trip. But when I found out you were here, I… needed to see you."

"However, now you think you were wrong to do so," she stated, understanding his line of thought.

"I have been selfish in my choices. I knew that you wouldn't be able to resist me, but I shouldn't have let you get so close. It was a mistake on my part."

"So you think it is all right to play with me like this?" Namiriel asked. She felt anger starting to boil inside her and she continued, slightly raising her voice: "To tempt me one night and then later tell me it was all just a big mistake?"

"I can understand your anger, but-"

"No more excuses, I've heard enough!" she snapped. Taking a deep breath, she continued more calmly: "I think you should decide what you want, because I cannot go on like this." She turned around and walked back indoors. As she entered the hallway, she could hear thunder rumbling in the distance as the raindrops began to fall.

She felt her shoulders starting to shiver and she sat down in the corner of the hallway, laying her head on her knees. "Don't let him play around with you," Miluwien had told her. But right now she felt that it was exactly what she had let him to do. She felt like a pawn in the middle of a chess board, free for everyone to push around as they like.

Namiriel did not know how long she had been there like that until suddenly a voice asked: "What happened to you?"

She raised her head to look up towards the elf. "It is nothing," Namiriel answered. "You don't have to worry about me."

"Are you certain?" Thannor asked and extended his hand to help her stand up.

"Not quite."

"Come, let us walk," he said. Namiriel nodded and took his hand. They continued down the hallway. The thunder had stopped, but the moistness was still in the air, though now it had been accompanied by the freshness of upcoming summer. Rays of light had begun peeping through the clouds, making the raindrops sparkle on the windowsills.

"So, tell me, what the matter was. I have rarely seen you so upset," he asked.

Namiriel stopped for a moment, trying to find the right words before she continued walking. "I had a… meeting with Thranduil," she said.

"Didn't go so well, I presume?"

"You could say that."

"I'm not saying anything, your tears are."

Namiriel quickly swiped her face with the back of her hand before answering. "I do not want your compassion."

"Then you shall receive none," he answered sternly.

"Why are you suddenly so grim?"

"In all honesty, I do not want you to come weeping to me because some other man told you things you did not want to hear. I do not need to know them and you should know better to not believe everything you are told."

"You really came to read morale to me?" Namiriel asked with a frown.

"Perhaps, if that is how you want to phrase that," he said, stopping and leaning against the wall.

"How else should I phrase it then?"

"Maybe: some friendly advice, or… a confession, if you prefer."

"A confession? Confession of what?"

After a moment of silence, he finally answered, ignoring her previous question: "Do you remember how we met, right here, in Imladris?"

"Yes, of course I do," she said.

"Everything was so simple back then. No hidden desires, no secrets…"

"What do you mean?"

"Our little chat in Lothlórien."

Namiriel nodded slightly. She had expected him to bring it up at some point, though right now didn't seem to be the best moment.

"I think by now you are well aware that I care deeply about you. I want you to know that whatever happens, I'll have your back," he gently touched her hand. "You asked before what confession it was. Well, here is your answer, though I imagine you already guessed where I was heading."

Namiriel nodded once more, uncertain of how she was going to explain to him that they could not be together.

"I have asked you once, but I will do so again. Would you agree to stand beside me until the end of times? Would you marry me?"

Namiriel gently pulled her hand free from his grasp and said: "Thannor, I'm sorry… I cannot do that. I can never answer your feelings or see in you anything more than a friend. And even if I could… there are too many uncertainties, too many things that I cannot control."

"You could have simply said that I don't deserve the hand of the High King's daughter."

Namiriel stiffened. He could not know this. It was impossible. She had never told him. "H-how did you know?" she finally muttered.

"Did you really think you could hide it forever, Ereiniel? It didn't take too long for me to figure it out – there were too many similar events for it to be a coincidence," he answered. "At the same year Gil-galad's little daughter, Ereiniel, died in a gruesome orc attack, a close friend of the king, Lord Elrond, adopted an orphaned child of the same age and named her Namiriel. Does it not look a bit suspicious to you?"

"During a time of war, many small children are left without parents. It is no wonder that-," Namiriel began, but Thannor quickly stopped her and said: "You can tell that story to someone else. I, for one, will not believe it."

"Very well, you learned the truth. So what now?" She asked, her eyes fixed on the man.

"I am not going to tell anyone, if that is what you're afraid of," he stated. "Instead, I thought that if you had no wish to claim your heritage, you would maybe like to settle down, peacefully and inconspicuously."

"So you hoped I would stay with you. Oh, Thannor, I…" she laid her palm on his cheek in an attempt to calm him. "I wish it was as simple as that."

"But it _is_ as simple as that," he said and pressed his lips upon hers. Namiriel didn't resist or try to push him away. The kiss only lasted for a moment, their lips lingering for a few seconds before parting.

"In another time. In another life," Namiriel said. She was just able to finish her sentence, when she heard a slight cough from nearby. She immediately turned her attention to the hallway, attempting to find its source. This wasn't as hard as she had thought. An elf stood a few meters away from them: close enough to be noticed, but far enough to keep a polite distance. Namiriel couldn't decide which was more disturbing: the fact that he was standing there or the possibility that he could have stood there for quite some time.

"I pardon for the interruption," he said calmly, although a bit stiffly. "Namiriel, Lord Elrond wishes to speak with you."


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: **All right. It was my first free weekend in the summer camp so I found some time to finish a new chapter. I am sorry that it took so long, but I have been really busy this whole time. And again, I cannot tell the exact time for the next chapter. But it comes… eventually.

Enjoy!

* * *

„Thank you, Lindir," Namiriel answered the dark-haired elf and gently slipped away from Thannor's grasp. "I will be there in a moment."

The elf nodded and quickly left, doing his best to make it look like he hadn't seen anything out of the ordinary.

"Why do you think he wishes to speak with you?" Thannor asked a bit hesitantly, being seemingly disturbed by Namiriel retreating away from him. Still, he did not attempt to approach her again.

"I do not know, however, I shall soon find out," she answered and followed Lindir down the hallway.

The walk to Elrond's study seemed now longer than ever. Namiriel walked though the labyrinth of corridors almost subconsciously while her thoughts were scattered among the many events that had happened today. She was still unable to forget Thranduil's words that made her wonder if it was all just a game that was being played high above her head.

She took a left turn.

And then there were the things Thannor had said. If he had been able to figure out the truth, then there might be others, who have been able to do so. How many others?

Namiriel turned to the right.

And there was still the question, why Elrond wanted to see her so abruptly. At least to that question she would uncover the answer soon enough.

She took the final turn towards the study.

Namiriel took a deep breath and knocked three times on the door, to which a voice from the inside enjoined her to enter. Her hand lingered on the doorknob for a moment before complying. Elrond was standing with his back towards the door and looking out of the window.

"Please, take a seat," he said calmly. Namiriel nodded and gently closed the door before sitting down on an empty chair next to Elrond's desk. She silently waited for him to begin the conversation.

"One of Thranduil's councilors approached me today with concerns regarding his king," Elrond began after a minute of silence.

"And what has it to do with me?"

"More than you could imagine. He told me that you have become an undesirable distraction for the king and he insisted I would exercise discipline and forbid you to approach him." He spoke seriously and slowly, choosing each and every one of his words.

Namiriel thought about what he had said, unsure of what to answer. But it seemed like Elrond did not expect her to say anything, because he continued: "This, however, is not the reason I invited you here, for I have no desire to follow his advice."

"You do not? Then why am I here?"

"Because his statement made me curious about what you have done to have piqued the interest of the king of the Woodland Realm, of all people."

Namiriel did not answer immediately, and when she did, she spoke silently and hesitantly. "You must believe that it was never my purpose to gain his favor and I like the current situation as little as you do."

"The current situation?" Elrond asked, slightly raising his eyebrow.

"Do you not know?"

"On the contrary of what people seem to think, I am not always aware of everyone's private affairs. Thus, it would be nice, if you could elaborate a bit."

Namiriel blushed slightly. It had never occurred to her that Elrond might not know. Though, it was also highly probable that he did know, but merely wished to hear the story from her point of view. No matter, which assumption was correct, Namiriel had no other choice but to tell him.

After she had finished her story, Elrond nodded thoughtfully. "I figured this was the case, although I did not think it had gone this far. Have you already decided how you wish to resolve this?"

"I thought I had, but after what you told me about keeping away from Thranduil, I have begun to wonder, if I made the right choice when I told Thannor to stay away."

"I do not think I am the right person to tell you that."

"Then who is? You are the one that has the gift of foresight."

Elrond shook his head. "There are still too many variables, too many uncertainties. I cannot give you the answers you seek. Hence you must decide with your heart and ask yourself, if you could find happiness with Thannor?"

Namiriel remained quiet for a moment. "No, no I could not," she answered silently. "Peace, maybe, but not happiness."

"Then you have made the right choice."

"But what about Thranduil? Should I still follow the councilor's request, even if you do not bid me to do so?"

"As I said, I shouldn't be the one telling you, what to do. But as long as you remain true to yourself, you should know how to proceed."

"Thank you." Namiriel smiled. Elrond simply nodded and she left the room, feeling a lot better about herself. As she was once again walking down the hallway, she realized that Elrond hadn't given her a single direct answer. He had always turned the question back towards her, making her do the decisions and give answers to her own questions. And Namiriel realized he was right: no one could have given her the answers she sought, because she had to find them by herself, Elrond had simply helped her to ask the right questions.

For the time being, she decided to go along with the game. She would, at least for a while, keep her distance from Thranduil as one of his councilors wanted. Just to see what would happen and if the king himself was aware of such orders.

Staying away was easier than she had initially thought. Well, at least physically, since he was often in the meetings. However, she still could not get him out of her head no matter how much she tried to distract herself. There was always something around that reminded her of him. Whether it was a book in the library or a wreath of flowers on someone's head, it once again evoked memories about him. It was especially difficult when there was no one around to distract her. So, instead of sitting in the library and reading a book like she would usually do, she often joined hunting parties in the woods or went on a stroll with Arwen, who, very much like her, loved long walks. Another reason for avoiding the library was that being there held a fairly high chance of accidentally meeting Thranduil, who visited it more often than Namiriel would have preferred. Only thanks to her knowledge of the castle was she several times able to avoid him when she had happened to be in the library as he entered. Although she was sure that at least on one of those times he had noticed her. So, in the end, she decided not to visit the library altogether.

Being out of the castle held the least chance of meeting Thranduil, or, meeting anyone for that matter. Thus she ended up spending her days in the woods, which meant that she was quite tired when she returned late in the evening and that, in turn, made it easier for her to fall asleep.

Only at dinnertime would she be obliged to be in the same room with him, since it was customary for Elrond and his family to dine together with the guests around a long table. Luckily, this meant that Namiriel and Thranduil were usually seated at different ends of the table, making it easier for her to avoid eye contact. In addition, Namiriel made sure that she would leave the dinner table earlier than the others, making up excuses about being very tired or having to meet up with someone for a late night ride.

Using these tactics she was able to completely avoid seeing him for a week, but the day forward, the harder it got. Not only did the wish to see him increase, but he was randomly beginning to appear in places where she could have never expected to see him. For instance, she once almost ran into him in the stables after she had finished tending to Súletál. And she had no sensible explanation as to why he appeared in such places, except that he was doing it on purpose. Which might have very well been the case.

This all led up to one night after the dinner, almost two weeks after the conversation with Elrond. Namiriel had finished her meal and excused herself from the table. She walked slowly towards her chambers, feeling quite tired after a long ride in the woods with her brothers. She opened her chamber door and was just about close it behind her, when someone stopped the door with their foot, preventing her from doing so. Namiriel quickly turned around, just to see that one person she was so desperately trying to avoid.

"You are doing a very fine job with avoiding me," he stated with a smirk, pulling the door open and entering the room without waiting for an invitation.

Namiriel was speechless for a moment, startled by Thranduil's sudden appearance. "Well, it is a big castle…," she finally muttered.

"Which one of us are you trying to deceive? You are consistently trying to avoid me, but why?"

"Because one of your councilors ordered me to do so," she answered bluntly. "And since you are already in my room, would you please close the door. I do not want the whole castle to hear our conversation."

Thranduil shut the door with a swipe of his hand, not even giving it a second glance. "My councilor? Since when are you following his instructions?"

"Since he complained to Elrond about me." She crossed her arms.

"He did? Well, then I imagine you would be glad to know that this issue will be dealt with and you are no longer obliged to follow his instructions."

"It makes no difference to me," she said sternly, using all her self-control to retain an uncompromising poker-face.

"Doesn't it _really_?" he whispered and gently pushed her against the wall. Namiriel knew that although he was not hurting her, his grip was firm and she would not be able to break free even if she tried. The thing was: she did not want to. She did not make a single sound of discomfort or a hint of trying to escape. Thranduil seemed a bit surprised by her reaction, or rather, the lack of it, so he slightly relaxed his grip, moving his hands down from her shoulders to her waist.

"I admire your self-control," he said with a smirk. "But I know how much you want this." He pressed his lips on her neck, kissing and licking it, moving slowly upwards to her ear. Namiriel felt a shiver running down her back as her breathing fastened and self-control was slipping away from her. A silent moan escaped her lips as he reached her earlobe and she abruptly pushed him away from her. Thranduil could not react fast enough and landed backwards on her bed with a triumphant smile on his face. She tried to regain her previous poker-face, but she knew that she would not be strong enough to hold it for long.

"Why did you come here?" she uttered, doing her best to keep her voice as calm as possible.

"Is it not obvious?" he answered with a smile still on his face.

"If it was, I wouldn't ask."

The smile disappeared from his face as quickly as it had appeared and he slowly began to speak: "I think I told you that being away from you is like a torture to me. No matter how much I try, I cannot get you out of my mind. I came here, because I want you. I want you more than anything I have wanted in my entire life."

"And you thought crashing into my chambers was the best way to prove that?"

"This was the only place where I knew to find you," he said silently. "I will be leaving tomorrow."

Namiriel felt like she had been struck by lightning. She had just wasted almost two weeks trying to avoid him and if he hadn't turned up at her chambers tonight, he might have left without giving her a chance to even say goodbye. The walls she had so hard tried to build up crumbled into dust and she ran to him, hugging him tightly and hiding her face into his long hair as she felt tears in her eyes. Thranduil gently put his arms around her, pulling her closer to him.

"Why are you crying?" he asked as he felt her slight sobs. He cupped her face between his hands and looked into her eyes, gently wiping her tears away with his thumbs.

"I cry, because I almost lost you due to my selfishness."

"You don't have to lose me. I will find a way to stay, if that is what you wish."

Namiriel nodded eagerly. She could not let him go. Not again.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: **I got some free time in the weekend, so I was able to finish this chapter. Sorry about the delay.

Enjoy!

* * *

The morning was nice and warm, the grass was wet with dew and many birds were singing throughout the valley. Namiriel was standing on a balcony, leaning lightly against the balustrade and enjoying the light breeze playing with her hair. The river Loudwater was flowing far below her, its water thundering as it fell down from one rocky knickpoint to another.

Her mind was so concentrated on the many sounds of early summer that she didn't hear the soft steps of someone approaching her. Only when the person gently toughed her shoulder, did she wake from her dreamy state. Startled, she turned towards the person.

"Thannor, what are you doing here?"

"I came to say goodbye," he answered, also leaning against the balustrade. "I'll be leaving for Lothlórien today and I wanted to see you before I go."

"Oh. I did not think you would be leaving so soon."

"Me neither, but it is for the best," he answered, a hint of dolefulness in his voice. "Now that you and Thranduil are… I have no wish to stay."

Namiriel nodded, understanding his reasoning. After a small break, she said: "I hope that when we meet in the future, we can greet each other as old friends."

"Perhaps you are right. But you must believe me if I say that I wish you all the happiness in the world." He let go of the balustrade. "And I hope that he can give you what I can't."

"Thank you, Thannor, it means a lot to me." Her voice was weak as she tried to hold it stable and not to cry.

"Just promise me one thing," he continued.

"Anything."

"Please don't forget me."

She put her arms around him and hugged him tightly. Thannor seemed surprised of her reaction for a moment, but then also gently laid his arms on her back. "I won't," she whispered. "I won't."

As she let go of him, Thannor gently touched her cheek with his palm, a faint smile playing on his lips, and then he was gone. He just walked away without looking back. For several minutes Namiriel stared into the emptiness in the place where he had stood. _It is for the best. _

She stepped back into the castle only to almost walk into one of Thranduil's councilors.

"I apologize," she quickly uttered, slightly lowering her head as a sign of respect.

"No, it is perhaps _I_, who should apologize for not being able to stay off _the lady's_ way," he answered sarcastically, as if trying to mock her show of respect. The man's crookedness surprised Namiriel greatly, almost leaving her speechless for a moment. But this was not the first time she had to deal with such people, so she quickly regained her thoughts and answered: "My lord, I have caused you no physical harm, nor did I say anything impolite. Therefore I am unable to see the reason for you to take offense. If, by some actions unbeknownst to me, I did do anything wrong, I duly apologize."

"I do not think a simple apology is enough to redeem this situation," he answered.

"I do not understand, my lord. I did not even touch you."

"Your constant running in the castle halls is not what I had in mind at the moment. Though this, also, is inappropriate, I can turn a blind eye to it for now."

_Who does he think he is, telling me, what is appropriate and what isn't? _"Then I must ask you to tell me, how have I done you wrong and if there is any way for me to undo it," she said, containing her agitation.

"We will see about that," he answered and suddenly he was holding her arm-in-arm. "Come, let us have a walk." That was not an invitation. Namiriel had nothing else to do other than to reluctantly nod.

They continued slowly down the hallway. Sun shone in through the windows and reflected from the polished floor, making it look as if it was sparkling.

"You have become quite close with the king," he stated.

_What was he trying to accomplish with that statement?_ "Yes, we have," she answered. It seemed like he was a bit taken aback by her straightforwardness, but he quickly gathered himself and continued: "So, you are deliberately disregarding your father's commands?"

"Ah, you are the one that went to my father, complaining about me, instead of daring to face me yourself?"

"Do not speak to me like this. And why on Arda would I come to you? Your father is the one responsible for you and, with all due respect towards lord Elrond, I do not believe he is very adept at it. So, I decided to _guide_ him a bit."

Namiriel laughed bitterly, trying not to snap and burst out what she really thinks of him. "I am no longer a child - I am capable of taking responsibility for my own actions. So, if you wish to voice your concerns about my _inappropriate_ behavior, there is no point in going to my father, who, most certainly, will regard them as utter nonsense not worthy of his time."

"You are a hot-blooded woman, lady Namiriel." He smiled mischievously. "I hope you know where you stand and what consequences might follow your decisions. And if you think telling the king about this conversation will help, then remember that I am not the only one holding these sentiments."

"I am not afraid of you," Namiriel hissed.

"Maybe you should be," he answered with a grin.

"_Ego, nestago lammeg min n__î__f orch!_" She abruptly yanked her hand free and turned into another hallway, quickly walking away from him. The councilor would surely tell her father about this incident and most probably also to Thranduil. But right now she was too angry to care about what they would think of this. She knew that she hadn't acted very politely, but he had intruded into her private matters and that made her feel sick. She despised that kind of people, who were always snooping around, telling everyone how to live their lives, but she was not going to let him influence her. That would have been exactly what he wanted: to get inside of her head. And she was not about to let that happen.

Namiriel walked aimlessly around the castle for at least an hour. She had at first intended to go to the library, but no longer really felt like it. So, she found herself near the passage to the upper gardens. It was always a quiet place, away from all the hustle. A perfect place for her to be right now. She went up the stairs and stepped out of a high ornamented door.

The garden was stunningly beautiful. The trees were in full leaves, their branches curving towards the ground under the weight of their blossoms. Flowers of different colors were blooming all around. The whole garden was set up so that from early spring until late autumn there would not be a place where flowers would not bloom. But in early summer the colors were the freshest and most vivid. She felt herself immediately relaxed as she inhaled the smells of the flowers and the tree blossoms, felt the wind gently fondling her and heard the birds cheerfully chirping. It was indeed a beautiful day.

Namiriel heard someone speaking heatedly in the distance. Was this not supposed to be the calmest place in the castle? She quietly went towards the sound and as she got closer, she could distinguish two voices: one of them Thranduil's and the other one his councilor's.

"But I was merely trying to do what was the best-."

"The best? You disregarded my direct orders to stay away from her! By all rights I could have you hanged," Thranduil growled in response.

"But, my king, she is Ñoldorin, you cannot trust her. She has put you under some spell. You must listen to me, my king!"

"Enough! I will hear no more of this," the king uttered angrily. "Get out of my face."

Then there was silence for a moment but then she heard steps quickly approaching. Namiriel slipped silently between the bushes and the councilor passed her obliviously. After he was gone, she stepped out into the open, only to end up face-to-face with Thranduil.

"I was not eavesdropping, I only happened to-," she began, but he stopped her with a gentle touch of his fingers on her lips.

"I believe you."

"Well, your councilor apparently does not think you should," she stated.

"Yes, I was wondering about that. What did you do to infuriate him so? Other than telling him to go and insert his tongue into an orc's face, of course." He could not help but chuckle as he finished the last sentence.

"Honestly, I have no idea, what I did. He just doesn't seem to like me."

Thranduil smiled reassuringly. "Well, one cannot please everyone. But believe me – you are not the first one he has begun to dislike so. He has always been suspicious of the Ñoldorin, especially after he lost his son in the War of the Last Alliance." He cupped her face between his hands. "Surely, in time, he will realize that he was wrong about you."

"How can you be so sure? For all you know, I _might_ have put you under a spell."

"That you sure have." He laughed and pressed his lips upon hers, pulling her into a deep kiss.

* * *

_Ego, nestago lammeg min nîf orch!_ – Go French-kiss an orc!

**A/N:** Thank you everyone for your continuing support and don't be shy about reviewing the story!


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: **Yes, I know, I have not posted for an eternity and I'm really-really-really sorry about that. It's just that the end of summer was so busy and then the school started again and I also had a bad cold for the last week so I was not really capable of doing much thinking at all and… All right, you don't want excuses, I know that. So here, at last, is the next chapter.

Enjoy!

* * *

Midday sun was shining in the sky as she galloped in through the castle gates: her horse's hooves clicking on the paving of smooth stones and her long dark blue hunting dress fluttering in the wind. Despite the fact that elves usually wandered around in groups, there were no companions with her and although she had a bow on her back, she had not been out hunting.

"Easy, Súletál, easy," she whispered to her horse, slowing him to a walking pace. She patted his neck and led him towards the stables.

"Namiriel! I was looking for you," Thranduil exclaimed, walking quickly towards her.

"A beautiful morning, is it not?" she answered with a smile. "I was just riding in the forest, did someone not tell you?"

He grabbed the reins of her horse, stopping him, and asked anxiously: "All alone?"

"Yes, of course."

"It is dangerous out there. You could have at least taken one of the guards with you." His voice was stern, even worried.

Namiriel dismounted her horse and answered: "I can fend for myself."

"Like last time, when the orcs attacked?" There was a slightly incriminating look on his face.

Namiriel flinched, remembering in vivid detail how the blade of an orc's sword cut through Arvellas' throat and the look of pain in his eyes as he died. "It is much easier to travel inconspicuously, when alone and not having to worry about others' safety," she answered bluntly, proceeding to lead Súletál towards the stables.

Thranduil followed her. "It is still too dangerous. If something happened to you… I could not bear losing you like-"

"Like you lost Elanor," she quickly finished his sentence. "Has it not occurred to you that I am not her?" She stopped, abruptly looking at him.

"Of course you are not her," he snapped back. "She was nothing like you and would have never dared to oppose me." He took a deep breath, before continuing calmly: "I am just worried about you."

She laid her hand on his cheek and looked straight into his silver-grey eyes. "I can see that, but you can't put me in a cage, not even if it is made of diamonds and gold. I need to be out there." He still looked quite worried, so she continued: "But you can join me next time, if you wish to do so."

That proposal seemed to please him and he answered: "I think I will."

She smiled and continued into the stable, laying her bow and quiver onto a bench by the door as she passed. After she had guided Súletál into his stall, she skillfully began taking off his saddle and reins.

"Why do you not let the stable boys take care of him," Thranduil asked, leaning against the stall door.

"Because Súletál is does not like strangers tending to him." The horse affectionately nudged her with his nose as he heard his name. "Also, I find it relaxing to be in his company and care for him," Namiriel said. She took a brush from the shelf and began to slide it across the horse's back. Súletál neighed approvingly and lowered his head, so that she could more easily brush his neck and long white mane.

Thranduil watched her as her hands moved in rhythm with Súletál's breathing, caringly brushing him as the horse looked at her with his bright brown eyes. "Has councilor Areldir given you any trouble?" the king asked.

"No, not after you… called him to order," she answered, thoughtfully sliding her fingers through Súletál's mane. "Would you really have had him hanged for this?" she asked after a small pause.

"For deliberately infringing his king's commands, yes." The cold and stern tone of his voice scared her, for Thranduil most certainly was not one to throw around empty threats. He continued: "But that would definitely be the very last resort, for I have never looked approvingly upon ruling with fear. I would never have my subjects follow orders because they fear me, but rather I would have them do it out of respect and faith towards my decisions."

"Yet respect is much harder to earn and far easier to lose," she stated, putting down the brush and stroking the horse's muzzle.

"So, do you always take the easy way?"

Namiriel smiled, understanding the line of his thoughts. "No, no I do not." She walked out of the stall, giving Súletál a piece of bread before closing the door.

"My king!" A voice exclaimed and Namiriel could see an elf dressed in a bronze robe swiftly approaching them.

"What is it, Lindir?" Thranduil asked, taking a few quick steps towards the elf.

"A messenger has arrived from Greenwood, my king, and your presence is required in the courtyard."

Thranduil nodded. "I will be there in a moment, you may go." Lindir slightly bowed and left.

"You can find me later in the library," Namiriel said before he could even voice his question. Although she really wanted to know what the messenger had to say, she deemed it to be too nosy of her to go and inquire about what could be the internal affairs of the Woodland Realm. Also, if it was something of importance, Thranduil would most likely tell her later. So, she set her steps towards her chambers to switch from her riding dress to something more casual.

* * *

Namiriel entered the library, now wearing a long misty-grey dress, rimmed with white laces. She was carrying a small book of poetry in her hands that she had finished a few days ago and intended to return to its place on the shelf. As she walked between the high bookcases, trying to remember where exactly she had found the book, she noticed an elf with long raven locks and a dark blue dress sitting on Namiriel's usual place on the windowsill, concentrated on the book she was reading.

"Arwen!" Namiriel exclaimed and the woman turned towards her, slightly startled.

"Hello, sister," Arwen answered in silent voice, seemingly still recovering from the startle, and put her finger on her lips to gesture Namiriel to speak more quietly.

Namiriel quickly nodded and sat beside her on the windowsill. "It has been a while since I last saw you in the library."

"Yes, I have been keeping myself busy. It is a shame, really, that I have not found my way in here more often for it is such a wonderful and serene place," she answered, thoughtfully closing the book. "So, tell me all about it." She smiled sweetly.

"All about what?" Namiriel asked, being slightly puzzled.

"You know: you and… the king."

"Oh." Namiriel blushed slightly. "Well, he is very nice and…"

"So, a man just has to be nice to you, and you already melt every time he merely touches you?" She looked at her with a very doubtful expression.

"No, it is not just that. I feel like… like he is the one. I cannot explain it, really."

"Well, I am very happy for you." She smiled, taking Namiriel's hands into hers.

"Yet I fear that if I were to marry him, he might ask me to become his queen."

"You do not want the throne?"

Namiriel remained silent for a moment. "I have never wanted it, yet it feels like it keeps following me, almost forcing me to accept those responsibilities."

Arwen laughed. "It follows you because this is your fate. You descend from a long line of kings… or have you run away from your past for so long you have forgotten it? It is your destiny to be on the throne."

"No, I have not forgotten, but I am not with Thranduil because I want to get to the throne; and even if I did want to, I could have done so a long time ago," Namiriel stated bluntly. "I am only with him because I am in love with him."

"I know." Arwen said silently. "But there are some that spread rumors of opposite nature."

"Like Areldir, one of Thranduil's councilors?" Namiriel guessed where Arwen was heading.

"Yes, he for example. He approached me yesterday, asking me to speak with you and "put some sense into your head"."

Namiriel nodded sternly. _Now he tries to get to me using my sister,_ she thought.

Arwen continued: "I think you should keep an eye on him, just in case. He is a good man, though perhaps a bit misguided in his actions. He truly believes in what he is doing is right and by keeping you away from Thranduil he would be doing his king a favor."

"I will keep my eyes open," Namiriel answered and hugged her sister. "Thank you, for everything," she whispered.

"Anything for you, _thelig_," Arwen said hugging her back. "And I say you'll be a wonderful queen."

"You think so?"

"Of course I do." She let go of her and stood up just as Thranduil appeared from between the bookshelves.

"My apologies, if I interrupted you, I can…," he began, but Arwen quickly stopped him and said: "No it is all right, I was just leaving." She picked up her book, gave a reassuring smile to her sister and disappeared between the shelves.

"Thranduil, I was beginning to wonder if you'd come," Namiriel said, gesturing him to sit beside her.

"The meeting took a bit longer than I anticipated," he answered, sitting on the windowsill and putting his hand around her waist.

"Any news?"

"There is some heightened orc activity on the southeastern border of Greenwood, however so far they have not dared to enter the forest." He looked at her worried expression and continued: "There is nothing to worry about - my captain-of-guard is more than competent to handle the situation."

"So, you won't be going back to the Greenwood?" Namiriel's face brightened to that idea.

"No, of course not." He gently kissed her forehead. "And if the immediate need did arise for me to return, I would not leave without telling you, my dear."

Namiriel nodded and rested her head on his shoulder.

* * *

_Thelig – _sister

**A/N: **I just want to take a moment to thank everyone for reading, reviewing, the favorites and follows. This story has now over a hundred followers and I never imagined it would be so popular. You guys (and gals, obviously) are great!

(Also, I changed the format of my author notes. When it was in all bold it kind of always felt like shouting and screaming when I was writing them. I think this style suits better.)


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: **Yes, I haven't updated for a while. Yes, I feel terrible about it. The beginning of this school year has been awfully busy and nervous for me. Also, I didn't want to post a low-quality chapter just for the sake of updating. So yeah, sorry about being gone for a while, but I have full intention of finishing this story and not leaving it incomplete, no matter how much time it takes.

Anyhow, here's the new chapter. Enjoy!

* * *

The warm sun of midsummer's day was rising into the sky, its soft red glow filling the room as Namiriel woke up in her bed. She pulled her dressing gown around her and slowly walked to the window, her bare feet making barely any sound on the wooden floor. The valley of Imladris was beautiful in the light of the morning sun, its rays reflecting off the snow on higher mountaintops of the Misty Mountains, making them sparkle and glow. Below the snowline of the mountains, toward the bottom of the valley, where air was warmer and filled with breathtaking smell of the pine trees, the slopes were dark green in color as the mountains cast shadows on them. And right at the bottom, on the shores of the river Bruinen, or Loudwater as some called it, and between the tall beeches and oaks, prevailed the beautiful and warm weather of a midsummer's morning. Every minute the sun was rising higher into the sky and lifting everyone's spirits about the upcoming day – one simply couldn't be sad and brooding with such a wonderful weather and the exalting expectation of a forthcoming celebration.

Namiriel quickly dressed herself in a light beige riding gown and hurried downstairs to get some breakfast after which to go on a ride in the woods. Her brothers were already on the balcony, finishing up their meals, when Namiriel arrived.

"A wonderful morning to you, sister!" Elladan exclaimed and quickly pulled a chair out for her to sit on.

"A wonderful morning to you as well," Namiriel answered happily. "Is it not an exceptionally beautiful weather today?"

"It sure is," Elrohir stated. "That is why I and Elladan are planning to go hunting later in the day…," he began, but Elladan interrupted him and continued: "And we were hoping you would like to come with us."

"Unless you have any other plans, of course," Elrohir added and he and his brother exchanged a few meaningful glances.

"On any other day I would be thrilled to join you, but today, indeed, I have already made different plans." She took a few slices of bread from the table and said: "As a matter of fact I must already get going, for I must still set Súletál ready for a ride."

"Oh, in that case we wish you a beautiful day," Elrohir said.

"And we hope you have much fun," Elladan added. Namiriel hurriedly smiled to the two and made her way towards the stables.

Súletál, as always, was most happy to see her, especially so after she had given him the slices of bread, and very eager to go on a journey. He even neighed a few times when Namiriel was setting him ready, as if trying to tell her to hurry up and get done with it already. As she was finished and already beginning to wonder what took her companion such a long time – she had thought that he would already be waiting for her – Thranduil appeared behind the corner with a dark brown steed ready for a ride.

"You look very beautiful today, my lady," he said, walking closer, a light smile playing on his lips. As a matter of fact, he did not look too bad himself. His light brown tunic was embedded with golden threads and he was wearing dark pants and riding boots. On his shoulders he wore a cape of green, gold and brown and on his head a wooden circlet.

"What have I done to deserve such compliments from a king?" Namiriel asked with a playful glance in her eyes. Thranduil gently slipped his hand down her cheek and through her hair. "I was hoping you could tell me that," he whispered before placing a soft kiss on her lips.

Namiriel laughed. "You cannot possibly expect me to have all the answers. Come, let us see where the road takes us." She mounted her horse and led it out of the stables to the courtyard. Thranduil followed her closely and soon they were riding down a stone-covered forest path under the old oak trees. The horses trotted lightly down the green path, grabbing a few mouthfuls of young grass on the way. The air was calm, only a slight breeze was to be felt from time-to-time, and the only sounds, except for their own lively conversation, were the constant chirping of many different birds and the rustling of a nearby river.

Soon the riders reached the shores of Bruinen, its flow near the road somewhat calmer after its steep fall from the mountains. They continued riding down the stream, one side of the road flanked by the steadily flowing river and the other side by a forest of beeches and oaks.

They stopped on a small meadow by the river and tied their horses to a tree at the edge of the opening, where they cheerfully began chewing on green grass. Namiriel walked closer to the river and stepping from one stone to another she slightly bowed over it to look at her reflection in the water. The reflection smiled back at her, ever so cheerfully and almost gleaming in happiness as her long hair fell to the sides of its face and blue eyes looked curiously at Namiriel. Was that young woman really her? Namiriel turned away from the reflection towards Thranduil, who was sitting on the bank, playing with a blade of grass between his fingers. She realized that at that moment he seemed so very non-kingly, his face showing no concern whatsoever about the affairs of the world and no trace of the furrows that too often defined his features. He smiled back at her as he caught her look and Namiriel jumped down from the stones and walked to him. In his smile there was no trace of his usual smugness and collectedness, on the contrary, it widened as she approached and he dropped the blade of grass, grabbing her hand and pulling her to sit on his lap. Namiriel gently pushed his shoulders, making him fall to the ground, and kissed him deeply. His hands wandered down her waist to her hips and with a quick motion Namiriel found herself under him as he pinned her to the ground. His lips moved down her chin to kiss her neck and his hands stroked her hair and face. Namiriel could feel his warm breath against her neck, making her shiver slightly as she wrapped her arms around him.

"_Dhe melin_, Thranduil," she whispered into his ear as he was placing soft kisses on her neck. Thranduil lifted his head from her neck to look at her with his silver eyes and answered: "And I love you, Namiriel." He placed a playful kiss on her nose before standing up and walking a few steps towards the river. Namiriel followed him and as she was standing beside him, he took her hands into his and said: "I have loved you since I first saw you, yet for a long time I did not dare to tell you of my feelings. It never seemed to be the right time nor the right place."

"And is it now the right time and place?" She asked, eyeing him curiously.

He smirked. "Is there even such a thing?"

"I suppose not." They both chuckled slightly.

"Truth is that I could not imagine living without you. I wish to stay beside you, no matter what the future holds or what the fate may bring us."

Namiriel's face acquired a slightly doleful look as she thought about his words. "There is nothing I would like more than to share my life with you," she answered.

"Namiriel Ereiniel, _ni mestathodh?_" He asked, his face filled with hope and happiness.

She smiled, her hand gently caressing his cheek. "_Dhe mestathon._"

He gently pulled her closer into his arms and hugged her tightly as their lips met in a deep kiss.

* * *

_Dhe melin_ – I love you.

_Ni mestathodh _ – Will you marry me?

_Dhe mestathon_ – Yes, I will marry you.


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N:** Oh my, I am a lousy updater. I could probably write a five-page essay about all the stuff I have done since I last updated: participation is school projects, the end-of-semester tests and all the stress that comes with it, but instead, luckily, I wrote the next chapter.

So enjoy!

* * *

It was already late afternoon when they returned to Imladris. The weather was still as beautiful as ever and the valley was filled with the warmth of the sun.

"We should speak with your father about our decision," Thranduil stated as Namiriel was taking off the reins from Súletál.

She looked at her recent fiancé and uneasily squeezed the reins in her hands, wondering what Elrond may think of this. "Yes, we should," Namiriel answered and gave him a quick smile. _It is better to get done with the talk as soon as possible_, she thought. _Although I have a queer feeling Elrond will not be surprised. _"Let us do it now, before he is too engaged with the preparations for the party," she said. Namiriel hung the reins on a rack and closed the stall door behind her, giving Súletál a final pat on the nose before leaving.

Thranduil nodded and followed her through the labyrinth of corridors up to Elrond's study. They stood together behind the door as Thranduil knocked three times. "Enter," sounded Elrond's voice from inside the room. Thranduil looked at Namiriel and gently touched her hand as a gesture of reassurance. He then entered the study, closing the door behind him and leaving Namiriel anxiously waiting. It was a custom among elves for the future groom to be the first to tell the bride's parents about the decision of betrothal. Usually this was accomplished through a private conversation between the groom and the bride's father.

After what seemed like an eternity, the door clicked open. Namiriel felt most relieved, seeing Thranduil come out of the room with a light smile on his face. Without saying anything he closed the door behind him and took her hands into his. He lovingly kissed her forehead and Namiriel nodded in an unspoken understanding. _All is well,_ she thought and then entered the room herself, taking a final glance at Thranduil from the crack in the door before closing it.

Elrond was standing by his desk and studying intently the papers in his hands. His wife, Celebrían, was also there, sitting on a fauteuil chair near the window and looking much calmer than her husband.

"Please, sit," Elrond said, still delved into his documents, and Namiriel complied, taking seat on a wooden chair.

"I know that this decision might seem quite hasty to you…," Namiriel began. "But I assure you, I have given much thought about the matter and I am certain that this is my wish."

"I know," Elrond said, finally laying the papers down on his desk. "You have never been the one to do rash decisions. Also, it is not my right to decide to upon who you can or cannot marry, I can only give you counsel about this matter. The marriage itself is, and always has been, a choice that is entirely up to you."

"Nevertheless, I do not wish to marry without your consent and blessing," Namiriel answered. "For you are the only family I have." She looked at Celebrían, who had so far sat silently, but had now stood up and turned to look at Namiriel. She could see that her mother had been crying – tears were still in her eyes as she walked towards her daughter and kneeled before her, gently squeezing Namiriel's hands.

"Oh, my child," she began; her voice was trembling slightly as she tried to speak clearly. "But do you know what the future holds for you, if you make this choice?" Her voice cracked and she lowered her face in tears. Elrond continued: "You will find no long-lasting happiness with him, Namiriel. This marriage will be your doom."

Namiriel pulled her hands free from her mother and leaned back on the chair, closing her eyes. "I know," she slowly whispered.

"You know?" Celebrían asked, her eyes wide of surprise. "And still you wish to go through with it?"

"I accepted my fate when I refused to take Narya, the Ring of Fire, which Círdan offered to me. There, on the shore of the Sea, I saw a vision not only of destruction and chaos that would come to this world if I took the ring, but I also saw a glimpse of my future and of what may come. At that moment I did not understand that vision, but now I do. The ring gave me a choice between power and love. With it, I could live, but without it, I could have someone worth living for. That is why I returned from Mithlond… because of my love for Thranduil."

Elrond nodded in understanding. "Then, my child, you have my blessing. May you find happiness in your life."

"Thank you, father" Namiriel answered.

Celebrían gently pulled her closer and hugged her tightly. Namiriel could feel her tears against her neck.

"I will be fine, mother," Namiriel whispered to her. "I still have time. That I know."

Celebrían released Namiriel from her embrace and gently took her daughter's face onto her hands.

"Yes, of course. It will still be long until…." Celebrían's voice cracked. "Does Thranduil know?" She asked a moment later.

"No, he does not," Namiriel answered. "And I can never tell him, for he would not understand."

Elrond nodded in agreement and Celebrían led Namiriel to the door.

"Although I did not give you birth," Celebrían said before opening the door, "I have always thought of you as my own daughter and I and Elrond will forever be there for you when you should need us."

"Thank you, it means a lot to me," Namiriel answered and kissed Celebrían on her cheek before leaving the room.

Thranduil was walking back and forth in the hallway. What took her so long? Had something happened? But then, as dozens other thoughts such as these were circling in his head, the door opened and Namiriel came out of the room.

"At last! I was beginning to get concerned," he said, making his voice sound calmer than he actually was. Namiriel did not answer, but only hugged him tightly.

"So?" Thranduil asked, his anxiety finally overcoming him.

"So, I believe we could announce the decision of our betrothal tonight at the feast of midsummer's eve," she said with excitement.

He laughed and lifted her off the ground, making her shriek of surprise. "Wonderful," he said and kissed her deeply.

"Then I think I should get ready for the feast," Namiriel said a moment later, reluctantly releasing herself from his hold. He sighed, but let her go. "I will see you in the evening," she said and placed another soft kiss on his lips before leaving for the dressing room.

* * *

Namiriel stood in front of a tall mirror as Sídhel, her handmaiden, adjusted her dress.

"It is so beautiful," she said, admiring the long creamy beige ruched skirt and the silver ornaments and lacing on the upper part of the dress.

"Thank you, milady. But I have always thought the person inside the dress determines its beauty."

Namiriel blushed slightly, but Sídhel continued: "And may I say you look exceptionally beautiful today, milady, as if gleaming from the inside."

"Perhaps I am, indeed, gleaming," Namiriel answered with a smile.

"Is there a particular reason for that, if I may ask? Has it possibly something to do with the Elvenking?"

Namiriel laughed. "Are you not a bit too inquisitive for your own good?"

"Apologies, milady, I had no wish to intrude upon you," Sídhel said quickly and continued working on her dress.

"No, it is all right," Namiriel said. "And as an answer to your question, yes, it does have something to do with Thranduil."

"Oh my! Are you…," Sídhel giggled slightly, but quickly collected herself and said: "Don't worry, milady, I shan't tell anyone."

"Yes, I would prefer you didn't until the news become public. Have you finished?"

"Quite so, just a few more adjustments."

Namiriel sighed and proceeded to hold her arms up in the air so that her handmaiden could do her work more easily.

* * *

Thranduil was waiting patiently on a terrace in the garden, where the party was to be held. On the terrace several large tables with foods of different kinds had been set up and all around there were decorations of young beeches and many wildflowers. Around the whole place many lanterns had been lit, their flames gleaming bright in the twilight. Most of the elves had already gathered and the place was filled with cheerful chatting and occasional singing, though the party had not yet started. From the edge of the terrace one had a wonderful view over the whole valley. Many fires were burning under the trees and distant singing could be heard. Also in the garden stood a pile of dry logs and branches that would be fired up at nightfall to chase away the darkness.

Then, as the sun was already touching the mountaintops, Elrond arrived with his wife and behind them followed Namiriel. All fell silent as they arrived, except for the occasional crackling of fire and the constant murmur of the river.

"All be welcome on the eve of summer solstice…" Elrond began to speak. Namiriel quickly slipped away from him as she noticed Thranduil standing yonder on the terrace.

"You look wonderful," Thranduil said, looking at Namiriel head to toe with visible approval.

"Thank you," she answered and felt her cheeks heating up. It was so simple for him to make her blush that Namiriel felt almost silly for it. But then again, come to think of it, she had just received a compliment from the King of the Woodland Realm; maybe it really was not that silly. Though already for a while she had stopped thinking of Thranduil as the King of Greenwood, but rather, when she looked at him, she saw a man whom she deeply held dear. Only now had his appearance reminded Namiriel of his status among his people.

"You don't look too bad yourself," she said. _A big understatement,_ she told herself. He was wearing a long silver coat with tall boots, on his shoulders a cape of dark green and on his head a crown of entwined branches and green leaves. He did indeed look most kingly.

Thranduil only smiled to her words and put his arm around Namiriel, pulling her closer and gently kissing her head. "I am already looking forward to tonight," he whispered. Namiriel nodded, wondering if the facial cream Sídhel had given her would work and her cheeks wouldn't flame up like a beetroot.

"… Let the wine flow in streams and let no one go to bed before dawn!" Elrond finished his speech and many cheerfully approved, raising their glasses in honor of their host. Thranduil also handed Namiriel a wine goblet – where he had got it remained a mystery to her as they were not standing near any tables – to raise it with the others and drink to a fruitful summer and many long summer nights.

"I suggest you make your announcement soon, before everyone gets too drunk," Elrond said, appearing beside Namiriel.

"Of course," Thranduil answered. "I would prefer everyone still remembers it tomorrow morning."

Elrond nodded, handing them both a silver ring. Then, as he saw Celebrían gesturing towards the dance floor, he disappeared into the crowd.

"Shall we dance?" Thranduil asked, putting down the wine goblets and leading Namiriel towards the musicians.

"Of course," she answered with a smile and followed him through the crowd.

After a couple of dances Elrond clicked a spoon against his glass to gain everyone's attention. He was standing near the pile of logs, next to Lindir, who was holding a torch.

"The sun has fallen behind mountaintops, leaving way for darkness to wrap the valley into its embrace," he said. "Let us light the fires to hold darkness at bay and to not let it creep into our hearts. This year I would give the honors of lighting the fire to our guests from Greenwood the Great." He gestured towards Thranduil, who stepped beside him, pulling Namiriel with him – much to her surprise. She squeezed the ring in her hand. It was time.

"Thank you, Elrond," Thranduil said with an appreciative nod. "But before that I… _we…_," he corrected himself with a smirk. "… have an announcement to make."

Quickly the crowd was filled with anxious whispering, but as soon as Thranduil coughed slightly, all fell silent again. He looked at Namiriel, taking her hands into his, and said: "_Guren b__ê__d enni i gi melin, Namiriel, bestathangid aen. Man gureg b__ê__d?_" Thranduil then slipped the ring on her finger.

"_Guren be 'ureg._" Namiriel answered as it was customary and gave her ring to Thranduil. Then she turned towards the people. "_Ai onron adh onril! Ai muindyr a muinthil! Ai meldir a meldis!_" Her voice rang over the terrace.

"_Bestathangid na veth min __î__n!_" he uttered and everyone broke into cheers, clinking together their glasses and shouting well-wishes to the betrothed. In the crowd, however, Namiriel noticed Areldir, the Councilor of Thranduil, leaving the terrace in quick steps. She saw that Thranduil had noticed him as well, but he did not deem it important to give more attention to the matter. Instead, he took the torch from Lindir's hand and said to Namiriel: "Will you help me?"

Namiriel also took the hold of the torch and together they lit the fire, followed by even more cheers and clinking glasses.

She and Thranduil soon retreated from the general hustle of the party to a more quiet part of the garden. Leaning on the balustrade Namiriel could see fires all around the valley. Warm wind swept over her bare shoulders and thousands upon thousands of stars dotted the sky above her.

"Enjoying the view?" Thranduil asked, wrapping his arms around her.

"Yes," she said. "I might not see this valley for a long time." Namiriel sighed, turning to face him. "Do we have to leave already tomorrow?"

"Yes," he answered. "There are matters that have been neglected because of my sudden departure and I want to give the people as much time as possible to get to know you before our marriage."

Namiriel nodded. Her last night in Imladris. She had not quite imagined it like this.

* * *

_Guren b__ê__d enni i gi melin, Namiriel, bestathangid aen. Man gureg b__ê__d?_ – My heart tells me that I love you, Namiriel, and that we should wed. What does your heart say?

_Guren be 'ureg._– My heart is like your heart.

_Ai onron adh onril! Ai muindyr a muinthil! Ai meldir a meldis!_ – Hail father and mother! Hail brothers and sisters! Hail male-friends and female-friends!

_Bestathangid na veth min __î__n! –_ We two will marry at the end of one year!

**A/N: **I think at this point it would be a good idea to thank the creator of a webpage called realelvish, from where I have got most of my translations into Elvish. There are also many essays and other interesting pieces of writing, if anyone should be interested.

And as always, I am infinitely grateful for your support and if you can take a moment to give me feedback about the story, I would be very happy.


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: **It has been so very long since I last updated. And well, frankly I just didn't have any energy to write. The last months of school have been so exhausting and every day when I got home in the evening I just felt like I would immediately fall asleep, though that never happened since I had homework to do. But in the end my efforts have borne fruit and I will finish the school with straight A-s. Anyways, now that the exam period has begun, I found that as weird as it would seem, I have quite a bit more free time. Therefore, I have decided to finally finish this story and not postpone the updating any longer.

And after all this time, here is the 22nd chapter. Enjoy!

* * *

Namiriel woke at a knock on her door.

"Yes," she said, rubbing her eyes and sitting up in her bed.

"Oh, I'm sorry, milady, I thought you had already wakened," Sídhel said, entering the room. "I can return later, if you wish."

"No, it is all right," Namiriel answered, looking out of the window. The sun had already risen into the sky and filled the valley with its light. "I should have been up hours ago already."

"But that would have meant that you got no sleep at all, milady," her handmaiden said and put a pile of clothes on the bed. "I brought your riding outfit."

"Thank you, Sídhel." Namiriel poured some clear cold water into the bowl and washed her face, letting water flow down her neck to the shoulders. "You know, you could come with me," she said, patting herself dry with a towel.

"Come with you to the Woodland Realm?" Sídhel asked with astonishment, handing Namiriel her undergarments so she could get dressed.

"Yes," Namiriel answered, stepping behind a dressing screen.

"No, milady… This I could not do. I have no wish to leave Imladris."

"Why not?" Namiriel asked, throwing her nightgown over the screen. "I would very much like to have a familiar face around."

"Do you still consider the King unfamiliar?" Sídhel took her nightgown and folded it neatly.

"No, of course not, but besides him I don't really know anyone." Namiriel popped out her head from behind the screen. "And I would like to have a good handmaiden, especially since - as much as I gathered from Thranduil last night - in the beginning I would have to attend several banquets and other events. And it is most important for me to leave a consummate first impression."

Sídhel smiled. "I am very glad that you think so well of me, but I'm certain the King will find you the best handmaiden in his realm."

"I don't need the best," Namiriel answered, coming out and pulling a beige tunic over her head. "I need you."

"You flatter me so, milady, but still I can't come with you." She let Namiriel sit on a chair in front of a mirror and began combing her hair. "I belong here, in Imladris. It is my home and I could not bear leaving it. I'm sure you will do wonderful in the Woodland Realm and I wish you all the best, but there is no place for me in the Elvenking's halls."

"Then I am sad to know that today will mark the day of our farewell." The sorrow was apparent in Namiriel's voice.

"Not all farewells must be sad, milady. Rejoice, for you today will be the beginning of your life with a man you love. And we will see again. You'll come back to visit, will you not?"

Namiriel had not really thought about the visiting part. Of course she would like to visit her friends and family as often as possible, but somehow she doubted she would have much chance to do that. Especially since Greenwood the Great lay behind the Misty Mountains and the road over them was dangerous. "I suppose I will," Namiriel weakly answered to her handmaiden.

"Wonderful," Sídhel said, not paying attention to Namiriel's doleful tone of voice.

Namiriel rose from the chair and Sídhel helped her put on a long bluish-green coat and lace up her riding boots.

"That is all, I think," Namiriel said, looking around in her room and at the bags Sídhel had already previously packed.

"Not quite. There is still something I wish to give you before you leave," her handmaiden answered and pulled out a short dagger from under her dress. "That is for you, milady, just to be on the safe side."

"But Sídhel, I…," Namiriel stuttered, "I appreciate the thought, but I don't think I will need it."

"I hope you won't, milady, but I wouldn't want to take any chances. You don't know, what the Wood-Elven folk thinks of you, especially because of your Ñoldorin heritage, and even if they mean you no harm, there are many more dangers out there."

"I can't believe you are suggesting the Silvan Elves might wish for any harm to fall upon me," Namiriel answered aggrievedly. "And for any other dangers I always carry my bow."

"You can't always take your bow with you, but this dagger you can attach with a strap around your thigh and no one will notice it. Please, milady, don't be foolish. It is always better to be safe than sorry." Sídhel's tone was serious and concerned.

"Very well, Sídhel," Namiriel answered with a sigh. "I will take it, if that is what you want, though I couldn't possibly imagine that I could find any use for it." She took the dagger from Sídhel's hands.

"I honestly hope there won't be any use for it, but remember to always have it with you, especially in the beginning," Sídhel spoke sternly. Namiriel pulled the blade from its sheath. It was a fine dagger - silvery, with several engravings on its handle and a blue stone on its pommel. Its sheath was covered with a dark blue cloth, similar in color to the stone and soft like satin.

"It is a beautiful blade," Namiriel said. "And thank you, Sídhel, for your concern about me."

"It is my duty," she responded, gently touching Namiriel's shoulder. "And please, if only for my peace of mind, keep it with you at all times." She again repeated her words and left the room with a slight nod of her head.

Namiriel once more examined the dagger in her hands and then attached it onto her tunic, so it would remain hidden under her coat but would be easily accessible if need should arise. She then picked up her bags from the corner near the door and took a last look at her room. She wouldn't be coming back here for a while.

There were quite many people in the stables when Namiriel arrived, though only about half of them were the Wood-Elves getting ready for departure. Some Elves had just returned from a hunting trip and stable-boys were tending to the horses that had just arrived as well as those that would soon depart. Some younger and more curious Elves had just come to see what all the bustling was about and a few were saying their farewells to their departing friends. Despite the unusual crowd in the stables, Namiriel moved easily between people and by the time she reached Súletál's stall, she almost began to wonder if everyone was deliberately moving out of her way.

Súletál was, as always, delighted to see her. With a frown Namiriel noticed that he had already been saddled. As she approached him to attach her bags to the saddle, Súletál nudged her slightly with his nose and looked intently at his saddle strap, gesturing her to loosen it a little, for he found it to be too tight. After Namiriel had done so, he neighed cheerfully and continued chewing fresh hay.

"Good morning," a voice sounded from behind her.

Namiriel turned. "It is a fine morning indeed," she answered and Thranduil gave her a soft kiss.

"Ready for the journey, I see." He eyed at her two saddle bags. "Somehow I thought you would bring more things with you."

"I am used to travelling lightly," Namiriel responded. "By the way, did you ask someone to saddle Súletál?"

"Yes, I did. Why do you ask?"

She sighed and ruffled Súletál's mane. "He is a bit… touchy about people getting close to him."

"Yes," Thranduil smiled. "I might have overheard two of the stable-boys talking this morning about Súletál having bitten one of them."

Namiriel nodded and grimaced slightly. "He might do that when the saddle is too tight. Anyhow, it would probably be best if I would tend to him."

Thranduil laughed. "On any other occasion I would disagree with you, but I think stable-boys would be glad to hear of it." He gently touched Súletál's nose. The horse curiously sniffed his hand but then, as he found nothing edible in it, went back to munching his hay.

"Are you ready?" Thranduil asked.

"Yes, in a moment." Namiriel took her bow from a shelf and strapped a quiver over her shoulder. "I'm ready."

They led their horses to the courtyard where many other residents of Imladris were already saying their farewells to the leaving Wood-Elves.

Celebrían took Namiriel into her embrace as soon as she saw her.

"Oh, my dear child. Up until this moment there remained hope in me that you would stay." She sobbed slightly while speaking.

"Please do not weep, mother," Namiriel answered. "For I am not sad that I must leave. After all, you are going to see me again soon. If not before, then in our wedding in the next summer."

"I know," Celebrían spoke. "And though now I cry, I am happy for you in my heart."

Namiriel nodded. Only now was this all beginning to seem real to her, as if she had been living in a dream her whole life.

As Celebrían let her go, she immediately felt her sister putting her hands on Namiriel's shoulders. Arwen looked at her for a moment with her bright grey eyes and then hugged Namiriel.

"We will meet again soon," Namiriel whispered.

"I know," Arwen chuckled. "But still it seems so final now. I wish you all the happiness in the world and also all the patience, for I feel you might need it."

"Thank you, Arwen. For everything." Namiriel gently squeezed her hands.

After Namiriel had let go of her sister, Elrond gave her his best wishes for the journey. "May your road be safe and the horses swift," he said. "And be patient with the woodland folk. They are slow to trust those that have not born and grown under the trees." Namiriel nodded in answer and slowly walked to her horse.

Thranduil spoke a few final words with Elrond and then he also joined the company. Namiriel looked around, noticing that Elladan and Elrohir were nowhere to be found. She found it quite peculiar since the brothers were rarely absent from events involving their family. She woke from her thought as Thranduil looked at her with a questioning look. Namiriel shook her head in acknowledgement that everything was fine and mounted Súletál. Thranduil then gestured the company to move out and one after another the horses walked out of the courtyard and towards the road out of the valley. But right as they were riding through the gates, in stormed two tall riders on white horses.

"Namiriel!" One of them exclaimed.

"Oh, brothers! I already thought I wasn't going to see you," Namiriel answered happily and climbed off her horse.

"We weren't about to let you leave without properly saying our farewells," Elrohir said. Both of them had dismounted as well. Namiriel ran to her brothers and gave them a big hug.

"Stay safe out there, sister," Elladan said.

"We'll come and visit when we can," Elrohir added cheerfully.

"You are always welcome in Greenwood," Thranduil answered. Namiriel nodded eagerly and climbed back up on her horse.

"Fair travels!" The brothers waved as the company began moving down the narrow road.

They trotted down the road and Imladris seemed smaller and smaller, eventually disappearing from the view. Namiriel watched the city disappear into the distance as they left the valley and turned towards the road to High Pass. When they got to a bigger road, the riders quickened their horses to make it to the foot of the mountains by nightfall. From there, if the weather would hold, it would take another day to cross the Misty Mountains.

Thranduil led his horse beside Namiriel. "You are so very quiet. Do you regret having left?"

Namiriel looked at him and smiled a bit forcefully. "No, I do not regret anything. Quite the contrary, I look forward to the journey and seeing the Woodland Realm. Still I am concerned about the road ahead. The High Pass is not known to be a safe road to travel. Not only Orcs lurk in these regions."

Thranduil gently touched her hand. "You needn't worry about the Orcs. I have sent scouts ahead - they will inform us if anything unfriendly moves near the road. And as for other dangers, they are only troublesome if one travels alone or with a small group. Though there are not many of us, I do not believe anyone would dare trying to stop the company of a King. Many times have I journeyed down this road and word travels fast among foul creatures. Rest assured you are safe as long as you stay with the company."

And as Thranduil said, no creature troubled them this day and in the night. Not even the day after, when the company was traveling across the mountains, did they hear or see anyone near the road. One could have even said it was too quiet, if it hadn't been for some birdsong or an occasional wandering squirrel running off the road as it saw horses approaching. Namiriel had never before seen so many wild beasts in the mountains. It was as if they somehow sensed the safety of being near the Elves. She even thought that she saw a few rabbits silently following them, close enough to be at a seeing distance, and yet too far to be hit by a bowshot. When she told about it to Thranduil, he only shrugged and said that he would have his guards chase them away if she wanted. That Namiriel of course did not wish and therefore she did not raise the subject again. Nevertheless, she could have sworn she had seen that one squirrel already thrice that day.

On the evening of the third day the company decided to make camp a bit away from the road near the shore of the river Anduin. The Elves' camp was very simple and there were no big and fancy tents, although this was the company of the King. Around a bonfire there were only the bedrolls, and overhead they had set up a large cloth, its corners tied to the tree branches, to protect the sleepers from rain. A bit further away there was a makeshift paddock for the horses. One scout had returned to the group with a freshly killed deer, which was now being cooked above the fire. Namiriel was quite amazed by the efficiency of the group. Everyone knew exactly what had to be done and the whole camp had been set up in less than an hour. Namiriel herself stayed away from all the hustle, thinking that she would be more in the way than of help.

She wandered some way away from the camp, towards the river. The air was much warmer here than it had been up in the mountains. The crickets sang in the cool evening and some birds were chirping in the distance. Soon she reached the river bank. The water was flowing quite slowly here and further upstream she could see the Old Ford, where the river was shallow enough to cross. She took off her boots and walked barefoot on the shore. The water was cool and clear around her feet. The camp was already quite far away, though she could still see the bonfire flicker through the trees. Aside from that there seemed to be not a soul nearby. Only the sounds of running water and the chirping of some birds filled the air. Quietly she took off her clothes and lay them on a larger rock. She then walked deeper into the water, tying up her hair as she went. Her muscles relaxed thankfully as water splashed around them, making her feel quite refreshed after three full days of horse riding. She threw some water on her face, and enjoyed the moment of being alone. Suddenly, she heard some steps on the shore. Namiriel turned around quickly, wrapping her arms around her, though she relaxed immediately as she saw who it was. Thranduil was standing on the bank with a towel.

"How did you know where to find me?" she asked.

"One of my guards saw you leaving the camp and kept an eye on you," Thranduil answered simply. Only now Namiriel noticed a movement on a treetop – she could recognize a figure, its clothing similar in color to the leaves, making it blend into the nature. She was not sure if she should be thankful that the guard had worried about her safety or embarrassed, because right now she realized she was not wearing a thing. Thranduil continued with a slight raise of his eyebrows: "Nevertheless, I deemed water a bit too cold for bathing at this time of the year."

"Luckily I am quite used to the cold water coming down from the mountains. Though now that you mention it, I would like to come out." Namiriel glimpsed again at the Elf in the treetops. Thranduil probably understood her thoughts as he made a slight gesture with his hand and the figure turned around and moved back towards the camp. Only then did Namiriel begin walking out of the water. Thranduil held the towel open in front of him and politely turned away his head, closing his eyes. Namiriel neatly wrapped the towel around her and then placed a soft kiss on his lips.

"You can open your eyes now," she whispered with a smile. After Thranduil complied, she laughed. "I thought you'd have liked to enjoy the view, though."

"Oh, I will have enough time to enjoy it once we're married," he answered with a sly smile and wrapped his cloak around her shoulders to keep her warm. "Come, let us head back to the camp. The dinner is ready."

The next morning no one commented on Namiriel's walk the night before or the fact that she had returned with Thranduil and worn nothing but a towel and the King's cloak. But as they were setting off on the road again, one of the guards approached Namiriel. Only when she came closer did Namiriel notice that it was a woman – men and women had almost identical clothing and she had paid little attention to the guards before. The guard bowed slightly and said: "I must apologize for following you last night without saying anything, milady. The king appointed me to personally make sure no harm falls upon you and therefore I found it important not to let you wander away from camp on your own. If you wish so, I shall not follow you again."

Namiriel remained speechless for a moment to get her head around two facts: firstly, Thranduil had appointed her a personal guard without telling her and secondly, it was the first time during the journey that any of the Silvan Elves directly approached and spoke to her. Of course, she had exchanged a few short sentences with several of them during horse riding, but the Elves had remained quite curt when speaking with her. "It is alright," she finally answered. "But next time, instead of silently following me, I would appreciate some company on my walk."

The Elf seemed quite taken aback by her statement and only nodded and said: "Of course, milady."

"Good. I would like to get to know you better, since you are now my personal guard and all," Namiriel added.

"What would you like to know, milady?" The guard seemed a bit tense, probably not having expected this kind of course of events. But Namiriel tried not to let herself get annoyed by that and instead kept herself calm and amicable, since this was the only way she was ever going to get the Wood-Elves to place more trust in her. "Perhaps you could start with your name," she said.

"My father named me Nínimeth, but everyone calls me Esgalwathel, because I am good at being unseen and moving silently in the shadows." The guard spoke slowly and silently, choosing her words.

"And I am Namiriel," she answered. "_Ni veren an le ngovaned."_

Esgalwathel nodded and Namiriel decided to leave this conversation at that for the time being. It was usually best not to force oneself upon anyone.

The company continued their journey over the river and down the road. From the distance a dark border between the ground and the sky began to appear – the trees at the edge of the Greenwood. Slowly, but steadily the forest drew closer. Everyone was quite silent during the ride, only Thranduil exchanged a few words once in a while with Namiriel. But her eyes – wide and curious - were fixed on the border of the woods.

"I have never been so close to the Greenwood before. Already now the trees look giant and ancient and we still have an hour to go until we reach the borders of the forest," she said to Thranduil.

"The Greenwood is very old," he answered. "It was old already when the first Elves settled in these parts and I believe this forest will remain long after the last of the_ Eldar_ have left overseas. And though I might be the King of Greenwood, even after all these years many secrets of this forest still remain hidden to me."

Namiriel could already separate different trees in the forest. Large oaks towered over beeches, their trunks covered with ivy. The road seemed to disappear completely between the trees, getting narrower as they approached the forest.

Soon they turned off the main road and went southwards following a small trail. The trees were towering high upon their heads when the company stopped at the border of the forest, where no road seemed to go between the ancient roots. Namiriel felt as if the forest ahead was alive, a living, breathing organism with a mind of its own. Every little insect or bird was one with the whole. Everything in this forest seemed to be in balance.

Thranduil gently touched her hand and brought her out of her thoughts. He smiled reassuringly, probably sensing the overwhelming amazement that filled her. Then he led his horse towards the forest and as he went further the trees seemed to pull away their branches and move their roots to clear the way in front of their King. It looked like an old and majestic dance, full of bows and curtseys. As the trees moved, they revealed a small road, hidden to any common wanderer that would pass. One after another the Elves went into the forest and as Namiriel saw them enter, she could sense their joy of arriving home. She was the last to linger on the tree border, gathering herself to go forward. Súletál already neighed out of anticipation.

Namiriel took a deep breath and entered the green kingdom.

* * *

_Ni veren an le ngovaned_ – I am happy to meet you

**A/N:** Recently I received quite an angry review about I quote: "being too f***ing lazy" and not having posted a chapter for a long time. Therefore, I would like to apologize in front of all of you, since I feel like I have failed you as a writer. Me saying sorry a thousand times would probably not help. The only thing I could do is finish writing this story and as I've said that is what I intend to do. While walking home from training or being bored in biology class I have set myself a chapter-by-chapter schedule, which means that now at least I know where the story is going and how much I still have to write. I have made myself a plan and I intend to fill it.


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